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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25515061">Cinnamon and Pine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/pseuds/Runic'>Runic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Byleth just wants to sleep, Claude will get back to his wife if it kills him, Drama, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Intrigue, Jealousy, Major Character Injury, Pining, Politics, Post-Game(s), Wyvern Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:15:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,136</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25515061</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Runic/pseuds/Runic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When word reaches Byleth of a terrible accident and Claude's supposed death, she struggles to hold their newly united nation together. All she truly wants is to sleep, and Claude's cousin pressing his own claims to the throne and in her bed is not helping. </p><p>Meanwhile, severely injured and with the rest of his traveling party murdered, Claude must make his way back to his wife and find proof of just who tried to kill him before it is too late.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia, Judith von Daphnel/Nader, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril (Background), Mercedes von Martritz/Dedue Molinaro, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Original Character (one sided)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>120</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>275</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>*looks at all my other multi chapter works*<br/>Look, I have zero self control all right. I've been sitting on this for so long it's actually impressive.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The world shattered around her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A rushing roar reached upward, attempting to swallow her whole. It was a howling darkness, so similar to the one that had consumed her before. It pulled at her eyelids, begging them to close again and sink into a long sleep, to leave everything behind. The darkness screamed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Byleth forced herself to breathe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No, she could not sleep again now. Everything they had worked for would fall apart. She could not allow it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you find his body?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth’s harsh voice surprised the messenger. He blinked up at her from his kneeling position, rocking backwards away from the throne: his throne. “My Queen?” he asked in obvious confusion. This was not the question he first expected from the queen.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you,” Byleth began to repeat, biting out each word slowly, “find his body?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Around her the court was in a state of equal parts confusion and fear. They all were shaken by the news, but they had never heard the queen speak like that before. Byleth had never heard herself like that before. There was a cruel edge to her words, something that made the primal part of the brain yell to run in terror. They had suddenly become prey before some dangerous and ancient predator. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“M-my Queen,” the messenger stumbled. He took a breath, steadying his nerves against her sharp gaze before he spoke again. His head tilted downward, unable to meet her eyes. “We are still searching, but..” He paused again, another breath. His next words were frank and to the point, abandoning the pretty words and prancing around he had first come to her with. “My Queen, none of the party survived. There were witnesses to the landslide. They saw the king and his party buried beneath a ton of rock and dirt. The king is dead, Your Majesty.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was that roaring again, the darkness swirling around her feet. She shook it off. Not now. Not yet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Send out messages to our council members. I want them all here within a week. No excuses,” Byleth ordered. Before anyone could stop her, she swept out from the room. Cyril and Lysithea were right on her heels, but Byleth was hardly aware of their presence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She shut the door to their private chambers behind her, cutting off the rest of the world. Byleth sank onto their bed, her arms curling around Claude’s pillow. She buried her face against the soft material, breathing in the already fading scent of pine and cinnamon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She needed to get up. She had two united countries to see after; his dream, the one he had given her. When he came back to her, Byleth needed to make sure everything was still held together. If he was truly gone, and Byleth could not bring her heart to accept that, well then, she would not let a fractured country be his legacy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the second time in her life, Byleth wept. She had work to do, but for this one moment, Byleth allowed herself to break apart before she had to put all the pieces of herself back together and face the storm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Claude,” she whispered as she curled into his spot on their bed. “Please, Khalid, please come back to me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It took his mind a good few minutes to even grasp the world. Nothing like this could ever be encompassed by a single word. No sound in any language could describe the way his muscles screamed or the panic he felt at feeling something heavy and leathery pinning him down.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It took him even longer to simply remember his own name. In his defense, he did have two of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude took a gasping breath, forcing his eyes to do their damn job. He could only see from one, and it took a surprising amount of effort to peel it open. He could feel something sticky and warm trying to keep it closed. The other felt swollen and would not even move. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What he managed to see was not promising. The membrane of Shamil’s wing cradled him. Rocks dug into Claude’s back, but his loyal wyvern had kept them from crushing him completely. Shamil had also created an air pocket, allowing Claude to continue drawing in breath. But like his eyes, he was painfully aware of his lungs protesting their basic function. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There were shafts of light that shifted above him. He could see them through the tears in Shamil’s wing, watched as they moved across the rocks until they eventually began to darken, making Claude realize he was watching the sun set.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The passage of time slipping by snapped Claude out of the foggy haze that his body had placed him in, attempting to protect him from the pain that was the entirety of his existence. If he did nothing, he would die, and Shamil’s sacrifice would go to waste.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, old buddy,” Claude whispered, managing to free his hand enough to pat the wyvern’s slowly cooling body.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He could see light. He had air. Claude had certainly been in terrible positions before, but he had worked his way through those. He could do the same here. He would get through this and be back home in no time to kiss Byleth and reassure her he was all right. He had everything under control.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was planning just how he would get himself unburied when he heard voices above him. Low murmurs passed back and forth as whomever it was moved about the rubble. Had some of his party survived? Were they looking for him? It was the most likely answer, but years of watching his back made Claude hold his tongue.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“This is pointless,” one voice said, almost directly above him. The words were spoken in Morfian, the same thick dialect as the ambassador Claude was forced to spend so much time placating. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do shut up and help me ensure he is dead. Otherwise if you do not stop saying that I will ensure you find yourself the victim of a second landslide. They are so very easy to trigger in this area,” a second smoother voice threatened. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude held his breath, mind already racing to pull apart a dozen different threads of whatever was going on. He felt something warm prod at him, similar to when Marianne would heal him in the middle of battle, but in some twisted sense. It felt wrong.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s with that face?” a third voice asked. This one shocked Claude more than the other two. The accent was similar to his own when Claude spoke Morfian. The syllables were spoken with the same inflection as someone who was used to forming the Almyran language on their tongue.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“For a moment I thought I sensed something,” the second voice answered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Was that what the magic was? Could it tell them he was alive still? Claude had no defenses against magic like that. All he could think to do was to slow his breathing and clear his mind. He silently thanked his father for insisting he spend so much time learning to meditate.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude’s heartbeat had slowed considerably when the spell prodded at his again. This time, it did not so much as pull at him but slide off. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” the first voice demanded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” the second answered, sounding none too pleased at being rushed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a shifting of the rocks above, dirt falling onto Claude’s face through the rips in Shamil’s wing. “Then we are done here. Let’s get the news to your king so he can put the next stage of his plan in place,” the Almyran voice said.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The trio moved off, Claude no longer able to hear their whispers. They left his mind whirling. The King of Morfis? He was somehow behind this? But why would he want to kill Claude? To weaken Almyra?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His heart suddenly sped up. Byleth! If the king was trying to assassinate Claude, what was he going to do to Byleth?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had to get out. He had to get back to his wife and stop whatever plans Morfis had for his country.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude knew from the light and his ability to hear the plotter’s voices that there was not much rock atop him. He remembered Shamil grabbing him and trying to fly up, screaming in pain when Claude was dislodged from his grip. They must have stayed in the air long enough to avoid the majority of the landslide. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he would need to be careful not to bring too much down on top of him all the same. It would not do to avoid burial only to end up doing it to himself. And if those thugs were still around, Claude was in no place to fight them. Hells, he was in no place to deal with the chill of the desert night. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So Claude did what he did best. He took his time and he planned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Byleth?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The voice was small and hesitant, so different from the self assured woman who had followed Byleth to Almyra determined to learn more of the world her fiance was born into, despite Cyril’s protests that it was not at all interesting. Lysithea had found a place for herself within one of Almyra’s few magical academies and quickly risen in prominence. Byleth recalled the way Cyril always looked at her, that mixture of love and awe. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come in, Lysithea.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her own voice sounded strange to her ears. There was nothing there, a bland flatness mixed with a hollow pit in her chest. Not even before she had arrived at the monastery had her voice sounded so empty. Byleth took a deep breath, using the action to steady herself. Now more than ever she needed to appear strong.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lysithea cleared her throat, but her voice was still ragged and raw when she spoke. “The council members who are in the city have gathered. Messengers have been sent out to those who weren’t. Cyril has gone to fetch Seteth personally.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was a brief flash of relief at least. Cyril would not let her down, and Seteth’s advice would be sorely needed in the coming days.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth finally turned around to face Lysithea. The young woman’s eyes were red from crying, and her features looked strained, as if she were fighting just as hard to keep herself together as Byleth. Lysithea had proven herself many times over, but in that moment she looked so very young. Byleth wanted to hug her, but she could see the cracks around the edges and did not wish to break her when so much was demanding they just allow themselves to fall apart.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Byleth answered, her voice still flat but no longer sounding so empty.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She watched Lysithea’s eyes widen, staring up at Byleth’s brow before crossing her arms over her chest, face setting itself in determined stone. Byleth rarely wore the diadem of the queen, even less often than Claude wore his own crown, but she needed to remind those who would see their work dismantled that she would not so easily step aside and allow them the pleasure.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lysithea once more fell into step behind Byleth as they headed for the council chambers. Usually Byleth would have preferred if her friends walked beside her. It was much easier to hold a conversation that way. Ever since taking the Fódlan throne though, Byleth had learned the importance of pageantry and just how powerful it could be with those who would underestimate her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a disconcerting quiet that had settled over the palace. There were no courtiers gossiping and plotting in the gardens. There was little movement outside in the city proper, the background hum from the markets absent. It pressed around them, leaving a void Byleth knew needed to be filled and quickly. They were frozen in fear for now, unsure of what would happen next, but Byleth knew they would not wait for long. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the same quiet that interrupted the murmurs within the council room as the guards opened the doors for their queen. Byleth’s eyes quickly scanned the room, taking note of who was here and who was absent. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nader stood with his large arms crossed over his chest, frowning down at the large ironwood table upon which was spread a beautifully commissioned map of the newly united countries. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Judith stood beside him, close enough that their arms occasionally brushed against one another. It was the same way in which Claude and she had stood in meetings. A pang of jealousy shot through Byleth, but she knew it was unreasonable. She would never wish this pain upon them. And Judith’s glowery face did not fully hide the pain the woman felt. Claude was like a son to her. She had been entrusted to watch his back from the very first day he arrived in the Alliance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude’s true mother, the Dowager Queen Tiana, stood beside her childhood friend. Her face was as impassive as Byleth’s own, but she caught the white knuckled grip Tiana kept on her elbows, hugging herself. Her fingers flexed as if she longed to have her axe in her hand, to swing it through a horde of enemies until her anger and hurt were spent. She would need to talk to Tiana privately when they were done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Four of the province ministers were present, charged with overseeing one of the seven territories that made up Almyra. There were glum faced individuals, the ones Byleth had the hardest time winning over, and who she knew would give her the biggest headaches while the current situation was ongoing. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All of the capital advisors were present, even Farzin with his arthritic hands and wrinkled skin. He was the only one sitting and tried to rise when Byleth entered, but she quickly motioned for him to keep his seat. Kir placed a guiding hand on the old man’s arm, helping him back into his chair. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir was the only one of Claude’s family beside Tiana who had a place on the council. Originally against his cousin’s plan of unification, Kir had become if not an outspoken supporter, then at least a begrudging believer. So he had come to serve Claude’s interest as governor of the capital, a move which had placated many of the old guard. Byleth was weary, unsure if Kir’s acceptance would extend past Claude’s disappearance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth took her place at the table, her eyes lingering on the map and picking out the pass Claude had attempted to travel through on his way home to her, the one they were saying claimed his life. When she looked up, sunlight caught the sweeping wyvern wings framing her head in steel. Two rubies hung from delicate chains, brushing against her forehead whenever she moved her head. They were supposed to represent a wyvern’s eyes, to fill her enemies with dread. Byleth hoped if there were any enemies in this room with her the diadem would serve its purpose as a warning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am sure you have all heard the news by now,” Byleth began, thankful her voice did not tremble. “We shall waste no time then. I want to hear from each of you what your plans are to handle the fallout from your respective posts. We will start with the province ministers. Jahan.” She turned to the senior most of the province ministers, who stood a bit prouder as his queen addressed him. Even if he did not like her, Jahan still had respect for the diadem she wore. “What do you suspect will be the public reaction in Mari.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His teeth hurt from chattering all night. Claude added it to his growing list, his body making him aware of a new pain every time he moved. But he needed to move. He could not spend another night out here. The last of Shamil’s warmth had long since faded and would offer Claude no further help. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, my friend,” he whispered, scratching at the wyvern’s chin. It ached when the giant white beast did not answer with a rumbling purr and tried to butt his large head against Claude’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude started the slow process of digging himself out. He started by slowly shifting rocks so that he could crawl out from under Shamil’s wing. He held his breath every time a rock shifted too suddenly or a large amount of dirt was disturbed, freezing until he was sure the entire thing was not about to cave in on him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Any sort of progress took hours, and by the time Claude had successfully made a space for himself to crawl free Shamil’s weight his hands were raw and bloody. He was pretty sure he was completely missing a nail on his left hand, he had looked only once to ensure he had not lost Byleth’s ring, but refused to do so again. He was not about to acknowledge the pain he felt, least any part of his body give out on him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He reached up, digging beside where he was trapped, just in case he caused a collapse it would not injure him further. Claude did not relish the idea of being suffocated by dirt. “I’m sorry, buddy,” he whispered as he managed to dislodge a large rock and send it slamming down onto Shamil. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But it was worth it. Claude could see light coming from the hole he had just created. Thankfully he was right about not being trapped too far down. He just needed to make it a little wider so he could fit through.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Get this done,” Claude commentated to himself, the words a further distraction from the pain mawing at his fingers. “Go home to Byleth. Take a long hot bath. Have fantastic I’m so thankful you’re alive sex with my beautiful wife. Ah ha!” He knocked the final stone away and pulled himself up through the hole. It felt like it took him an eternity, his arms shaking badly as he forced them to support his weight. “Get to see Lorenz’s face when I come back. Remember to duck when Hilda tries to hug me...or hit me. Might be both. Lysithea is going to let me get away with so much now. I’m milking this as long as I can.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude continued rambling to himself until he flopped against the ground, breathing heavily but thankful to see the sky above him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a brilliant shade of pink and gold, the last rays of the sun setting over the horizon. Claude could even make out a few stars already twinkling in the east. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>No time to waste then.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude took a deep breath, willing himself to move. His body did not respond. “Oh come on.” He glared down at his unmoving legs. “We’ve got this. Just a little bit more. I’ll even ask Byleth for a massage if you just move.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Great, he was bargaining with his own body now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He could not fail. He had not come this far to give up. But all the aches and pains were making themselves known, and Claude could not move his legs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A thought filled him with terror as he stared down at the broken mangled mess that was his legs. Had he actually moved them before? He had dug with his hands. Pulled himself through with the strength of his arms alone. In ignoring his pain, had Claude dismissed a larger problem until it was too late to do anything about it?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he whispered. He tried to move again, a shooting agony making him bite his bottom lip so hard it bleed as he held back a scream. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was going into shock.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He could feel himself losing consciousness.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The chill in the air had settled around him, cloaking him like a veil of darkness. He had nowhere to do, and there was death, waiting for him in the shadowed fringes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude cradled his hand to his chest, pressing the feel of his wedding ring as close as possible. He had to get back to Byleth, no matter what.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her name was on his lips as he finally slipped into oblivion. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, hello, welcome to the monster chapter that has been my comfort project for this week.</p>
<p>And thank you to Mads for betaing and letting me bounce ideas around! </p>
<p>I hope you guys enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“My Queen?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth startled at the words, her hand dropping to the hilt of her sword. Kir did not flinch, waiting until Byleth took a deep breath to ease the rush of adrenaline now pumping through her. She took her hand from her sword and waved him into the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Forgive me,” Kir said, his tone as formal as any proper noble’s. “I did not mean to scare you, but when you did not answer I became worried.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was lost in thought,” Byleth supplied as she turned back to the map before her. She did not know what she would find, not after spending so much time looking at it over the past month. She studied it like it had the key to all her problems when really it just laid them all bare before her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir’s eyes narrowed. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before the set of his shoulders straightened. It hurt to look at. Kir shared so many features with Claude, the shape of his face and the way they wore their beards. But where Claude was calculated smiles and wit, giving himself away with his all too expressive eyes, Kir was prompt and respectful to a fault, his tells broadcast in the little changes of his body movements. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not mean any disrespect, My Queen, but that seems to be happening more often of late,” Kir pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth repressed the urge to roll her eyes at him. Claude had once said getting the point from Kir was like pulling teeth, and it certainly felt rather painful at the moment. “Kir,” she said more sharply than she meant too, but too exhausted to find much ability to care, “please just say what you came here to say.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir blinked, causing Byleth’s chest to ache. If his eyes had been green instead of deep brown she might have actually broken right then and there.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Very well," Kir relented. He was still stiflingly polite, but his tone was blunt. He brokered no quarter in which Byleth could hide. "You must go into mourning, Your Majesty. Already the edges of Almyra are fracturing, to the point I must ask your leave to deal with them in your name. My job there would be made easier if they did not see their queen as delusional."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Delusional?" Byleth repeated, the word short and snapped. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir did not flinch, instead sliding a thick letter across the table. It was still sealed with the Sreng royal seal stamped in cream colored wax. "Lady Byleth," Kir started, his voice quieter, sympathetic to her pain but still not allowing her to run away. "We all know what this is. There will be more condolences, and if you do not go into mourning the entire world will think you are in denial."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth gripped the table, knuckles turning white under the pressure. She needed to breathe. She needed to remember how to do so.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"They still have not found his body," was her protest. Despite the conviction with which she spoke the words, Byleth knew after a month of searching the excuse was weak.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"They have found bodies," Kir pointed out gently. He took a step closer before stopping himself, as if he might reach out and offer her comfort. "My Queen, you know the state they were found in. One could very well be him."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth knew. She had seen the mangled forms and crushed skulls. Some were able to be identified by other features, but there were a few who had suffered injuries too grievous to be recognizable. Only Shamil's battered body was instantly identified. Byleth's unbeating heart ached in her chest at the thought of the great beast, his ashes now contained in an urn in their private chambers, awaiting Claude to decide what to do with them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Your period of mourning will last for a year and a day, Byleth." Kir tripped over her name, unused to saying it without a title. But Byleth found herself surprisingly grateful for the familiarity, latching onto something that made her feel normal. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth sighed, letting her shoulders slump under the weight that had settled on her. She was so tired of trying to hold it all. "What would you have me do, Kir?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A beat of silence before Kir let loose his own sigh. “Firstly, you need to acknowledge his death.” He held up a hand to cut off her protests. “Even if you do not believe he is dead, there is a year in which he can return before anything will be required of you. But you must do this to keep yourself from being declared incompetent. Anyone else will dismantle everything the two of you have accomplished.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And is your goal to help me keep that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As hard as it may be to believe, yes.” Kir’s fingers lingered on the letter from Sreng. Byleth could almost believe the sympathy in his tone. There was no falseness in his eyes as there were in Claude’s when he hid behind a scheme. “Byleth,” he sighed her name, and it became so hard to distrust him. “Send me east. My family has influence there, and I can get the provinces back on your side.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If I go into mourning,” Byleth clarified. There was a long beat of silence before Byleth looked up. “What else, Kir?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He studied her, his eyes scanning her before lingering on the diadem. “I have to point out that you have just become the biggest prize in the entire world.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth blinked, unsure what he was getting at. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You united two countries and now rule over them both. Every country is going to be sending their representatives along with their condolences, but they will in fact be competing to place their masters’ favors before you, hoping you choose one as your next husband.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth blanched, the idea of wearing anyone else’s ring besides Claude making her sick to her stomach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What they may not realize is that if you marry one of them, you will lose Almyra. Khalid’s hold was solidified but the glue was not yet dry. You alone cannot hold it all together,” Kir continued.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It hit her then, chilling her as if someone had just thrown a bucket of cold water over her. “You want me to marry another Almyran,” Byleth spelled out. “Who, Kir? You?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir paused in that way he always seemed to do, weighing his answers before his carefully chosen words were spoken. “I would be the obvious choice, yes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth blanched again, feeling bile in her throat. She swallowed against it, Kir watching her patiently. “You were just encouraging me to go into mourning, and now you want me to consider marriage with someone else?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That is the nature of politics I am afraid, Byleth.” Kir’s voice was soft and gentle. Byleth could see no lie to his sympathy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir sighed and took a step toward her. His hands lifted, and for a moment Byleth thought he was going to embrace her, before they fell back to his side. She was not sure if she would have fallen into him or punched him if he had.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I...I do not relish being the one to ask this of you, to seem as if I am attempting to crush your hope. I know it might be difficult to believe, but my intention is to help you maintain what my cousin has built.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth understood, she did, but it did not make it feel as any less of a betrayal to her husband. “You want rumors that I intend to take you once my period of mourning is over.” It was not a bad plan. It would certainly keep the fringes of Almyran more complacent, the tribes that always tested how securely the crown sat upon the king’s head. Or at the very least, it would buy her some more time before they made a move.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>More importantly, it would give time for Claude to come back to her. She could buy him an entire year.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir shook his head. “I think it too early for that. For now, I will make it known to the right ears of my intentions toward you. Everyone knows how much you and Khalid loved each other.” He paused for a moment when Byleth flinched, frayed nerves unable to hide how much it hurt to talk of Claude in the past tense. “Right now we are buying time until it is believable that you would consider taking a new husband.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>Never</em>
  </b>
  <span>, her mind screamed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, Byleth forced herself to nod sharply. She could not find the words to voice the order, to give Kir the permission he was seeking for both his rumors and his travel. “Your help in keeping the city calm has been appreciated. Do not be gone long,” she forced out as a way to make herself clear.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir bowed his head, hand respectfully crossed over his heart. He moved to leave, Byleth carrying the heavy weights he had shackled around her wrists. No, that was not fair. They had come with the duty she accepted when she bowed her head to let them place the crown on her head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kir?” Byleth called softly right as he reached the door. “What does this do for you? Are you fulfilling your own ambitions?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a long pause as Kir considered his answer, the very air seeming to press against her. Byleth heard his hand brush against the wood as it dropped away from the handle, but she kept her eyes on Claude’s map, the representation of the world they had built. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There was a time, before Khalid took the throne, when I thought I would make a better king than him. I believed the hatred and bigotry that was spewed at him. But he took the crown despite all that, and he shone so brightly it was blinding. I came to believe him, to believe in his dream. And then he returned with you, and I understood why he had chosen to rival the sun itself.” There was a hitch in Kir’s voice, as if he was fighting not to stumble over his words. “My cousin was a very lucky man. He found a way to achieve his dreams, and the person who would stand by his side through it all. I would be a pale imitation compared to him, but I would consider myself as lucky as him to be able to support you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth felt lost, as if she once more did not understand emotions and the names that went with them. She could almost swear there was longing in Kir’s words, but that could not be right. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before she could figure it out, Kir touched the door handle, torchlight from the hallway making her realize how dark it had grown outside. “Good night, my Queen. Please consider trying to get some sleep soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The next morning, Byleth stared at her black clad form in the mirror. The fabric weighed on her limbs as if she wore lead instead of cotton. The rubies of her diadem blazed in the early morning light, reflecting Byleth’s refusal to go down without a fight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She stepped out into the world, into a grief she did not wholly believe but consumed her all the same.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude was vaguely aware of someone carrying him. At some point he registered the softness of blankets at his back. Someone was working over him, the shock of silver hair so familiar but his brain unable to complete the connection. Then there was the hum of voices, and everything felt softer. His drifts into consciousness did not come on so violently, leaving him shaking and gasping, wishing for the darkness to swallow him again. But every time he woke, gentle hands guided him back, and now that Claude wanted to be awake, those hands refused to let him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It felt strange the first time he came to with any sort of clarity. Actually, Claude felt more rested than he had in a surprisingly long time. The pillows behind his head were lumpy, and the blankets covering him were rather coarse. He did not care at all. There was something nice in the simplicity of it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning,” a soft voice greeted him, so very familiar. “How are you feeling?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude tried to turn his head, his muscles straining in protest. It was nowhere near as bad as the last time he had woken in an unfamiliar space, but it still made any movement difficult.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Slowly,” the voice commanded, still gentle but leaving little room for argument. “It has been awhile since you have moved by yourself. Your muscles will be rather stiff.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No kidding,” Claude croaked. His throat felt like a toad had taken up residence inside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Here.” A pair of practiced hands helped him sit up, the process taking a painfully long time. “There we go.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude blinked, his brain finally catching up with what was going on and allowing him to recognize the person helping him. “Mercie?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Claude,” Mercedes greeted with her signature bright smile. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude was not sure what he expected when he woke up, but it certainly was not Mercedes in what seemed to be some hastily constructed  shelter. “Uh, hey,” he managed to offer as a greeting. “Where are we?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Near the edge of the cedar forest,” Mercedes answered as she sat beside his cot. She wrung a cloth out over a bowl of water and pressed it to his forehead. Claude’s eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment at the coolness. It felt wonderful in a way he did not know how to describe. The only thing that came close was when he returned to Byleth after a long trip and they would bathe together.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mercie, not that I’m not grateful for the assist, but how did you get here to help me? The cedar forest is a good hundred miles from where I last remember being.” And last he knew, Mercedes was in Fhirdiad taking care of the children who called her orphanage home. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As if summoned by the question, the thin wooden door swung open, and a large form ducked their way inside, carefully setting down two buckets of fresh spring water. Claude blinked in surprise at the sight of silver hair against dusk shaded skin. There were new scars visible on his face, some freshly healed by Mercedes’ magic no doubt, but it was undeniable who had just walked in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dedue?” Claude blurted out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue inclined his head, stepping behind Mercedes and placing a hand on her shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. Mercedes responded by lifting her hand to his, the movement so natural there was no way it had not been practiced a hundred times before. A pair of plain gold matching rings glinted on their fingers, giving Claude another shock. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’ve missed something,” he said slowly. “A few things.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mercedes chuckled softly, pulling her hand back. “A few, yes. Dedue found you lying amongst the mess from the rockslide. You were very badly injured, but Dedue managed to carry you this far while you were drifting in and out of consciousness.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He remembered nothing of traveling, only of warm hands easing him back to sleep. Claude shook his head, immediately regretting it when it felt like his brain was rattling around in his skull.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That is probably for the best,” Dedue said matter of factly, understanding Claude’s meaning.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude tried to process that, really he did, but his thoughts were slipping away like water out of a sieve. He needed to plan, to use his oh so clever brain to make everything better again, but he could not even hold onto the concept of where to start.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mercedes' soft hands reached out and took one of his own into her grip. There was something comforting in being grounded in such a way, and Claude held onto that touch like a child to a favored stuffed toy. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Claude,” she said softly, in the same way a doctor always delivered bad news to a patient, but Claude did not catch onto that until she was already speaking again. “You need to know, you have been asleep for over a moon.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A pause. Process. Right, okay, he knew the concept of a moon. A month. But that seemed a ridiculous amount of time to need to sleep. And...and...oh no, that was a very bad thing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What!” Claude snapped, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. It took a few attempts to fling the blankets off of himself and attempt to stand, but Mercedes was easily able to push him back down. Spirits above and below he was as weak as a newborn kitten. “I have to get back! That landslide was no accident. I need to get back before whoever did this can get away with it!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mercedes and Dedue shared a look, and Claude saw something pass between them. He and Byleth had done it too often for him not to recognize it. They decided something silently between them, and it was Dedue who answered. “We suspected it was not an accident.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude had to pause again as his brain processed that. His thoughts felt so sluggish, frustrating him that he could not piece anything together as fast as he usually could. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I saw them combing through the aftermath,” Dedue clarified. “They were acting suspicious, so I watched them. There was one man amongst them from Almyra. A group of merchants came through, stopped by the blockage and this man offered the story of a tragic accident, but his whole demeanour had changed. It felt...off. When I found you, I did not trust he would have your best interest in mind.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“He didn’t,” Claude replied sourly, his mind dragging up the memory of the voices that had searched through the rubble.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Mercedes said, drawing out the word as she took over. “Dedue sent word for me to come to him, and began carrying you west so that I could meet him on the way, and here is where we ended up. He had wrapped your wounds as best he could, but you needed a healer. I am honestly surprised you held on as well as you did. I had to keep you asleep so that you could properly heal.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude had lifted his hand, staring at Byleth’s ring as Mercedes spoke, but the last sentence filled him with a strange seething rage. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he snapped. “My country has thought for a month that their king is missing. You very well could have ruined everything I have worked for.” His tone was dark and smooth, like the fire of a fine liquor sliding down the throat, a shot too many one knew would lead to trouble. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A small part of his brain was screaming at him that he was being unreasonable, that he was letting fear form his words for him. He was lashing out at the very people who had saved him. He knew all this. And yet, the thought of his dream falling apart, of Byleth besieged on all sides and fighting by herself, of Byleth falling victim to whatever scheme those people had for her. A month! Stars above, please let Byleth be safe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A tense silence settled through the shelter, an overwhelming sense of guilt turning Claude’s tongue to cotton within his mouth. But the words had been said, and there was no unsaying them now.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was broken by Dedue, turning on his heel and walking back out of the lean to. And fuck, but that was so undeserved. Dedue had carried him for miles, getting him to the only person he could trust at the moment to actually help.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mercedes bopped his nose, the wet cloth still in her hand splashing drops of water against his face. “I’m not going to accept an apology,” she said, her voice still light and pleasant, but leaving Claude feeling like he was definitely about to meet his maker. “Because I know that you know what you said was uncalled for, and I can see the guilt in your eyes. We did what we had to do to save your life. How did you expect to go rushing to the Professor’s side when you couldn’t even stand?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude released a deep breath of air, his entire body sinking under the weight. He managed a nod, which immediately lightened the oppressive force of Mercedes’ stare. “Good. So, back to rest for you, and when you feel up to it you can go apologize to Dedue.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude hobbled out of the lean-to on his makeshift walking stick. Mercedes was leaving him alone, supposedly, but he could feel her eyes on him as he progressed. There was a chair just outside, and Claude half suspected she had placed it there when he made it clear he was not about to wait for Dedue to come back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he was grateful for the chance to rest. He flopped into the seat, stretching out his leg with a satisfied sigh. Claude leaned back, eyes scanning the trees around them. Sunlight shown down through the canopy leaves. Birds chirped at each other, two sparrows flitting back and forth as they brought twigs back to a half built nest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was all rather peaceful, in a way Claude was not used to experiencing since he had taken the crown, his moments of solace taken at the end of long days by falling into Byleth’s arms. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was not sure what to do with that. So he settled on tilting his head back until it rested against the lean-to, the sunlight warm and gentle. It was lulling him back to sleep, as if the month he had just spent unconscious was not enough.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue’s deep voice snapped Claude out of his nap, nearly toppling himself out of the chair. Dedue was there, a solid hand keeping the chair’s legs on the ground, and keeping Claude himself from ending up in the dirt. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, hey, Dedue,” Claude greeted sheepishly, rubbing one hand behind his head. He reached for the walking stick, but found it had rolled too far away for him to reach. Dedue follow his gaze, easily scooping up the stick and handing it back to Claude. “Thanks.” He did not intervene as Claude stood, allowing him to attempt the basic process that had become so difficult by himself, for which Claude was thankful.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did Mercie say it was all right for you to be up?” Dedue asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude snorted. “Do you think I would be if she did not.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A fond smile crossed Dedue’s face, tugging at the very corners of his lips and no more. “No,” he relented, a statement of immutable fact. “You would not.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They fell into an easy silence. It surprised Claude how nicely it settled over them, here in this little clearing nestled away from the cares of the world. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I looked for you,” Claude finally said, his gaze back on the sparrows who were weaving more twigs into their nest. “After Enbarr.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Dedue answered, a strain to his voice Claude had not heard before. “I did not want to be found. It was...I did not have a purpose anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude nodded. He did not fully understand what Dedue went through, could not understand how he processed his goals coming to a close and what came after. He was still working on his own after all, and they had kept him busy these long years. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mercie?” Claude asked, taking a guess at what had grounded Dedue again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And there was that fond smile again. “Yes, Mercie,” Dedue acknowledged.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then, how did you end up in Almyra?” Claude went for another thought that had been bugging him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I walked.” Dedue leaned into the makeshift home, setting down a couple of hares he had caught within before rejoining a blinking Claude.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did...did you just make a joke?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue stared at him and Claude burst into laughter. He did not know Dedue capable of such a thing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not like to be in one place for long,” Dedue explained as the last notes of Claude’s mirth echoed out into the trees. “It was pure happenstance I was in the city when I saw your traveling party come through. I had nowhere in mind to go when you left, so I simply headed in the same direction.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude tilted his head, giving Dedue a quizzical look, which only made Dedue sigh and cross his arms over his chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You and the Professor completed my mission for me. You avenged His Highness for me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You were there,” Claude pointed out. “You did help us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But you were the one who took Enbarr. And the Professor was the one who struck Edelgard the fatal blow,” Dedue countered. “I have felt...indebted to the two of you for a long time. Occasionally, I would check in. Until now you had no need of me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude blew out a puff of air, aiming for that troublesome lock that always fell in his face. He frowned as the action only made it fall in a worse way to obscure his vision. “Well, I’m glad you decided to stick around. I don’t think you owe me anything, Dedue. In fact, I am now very much in your debt. But I would have you know you would have been welcomed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Dedue answered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then the silence was back between them, comfortable and warm as the sunshine on his skin. When Mercedes called for Dedue’s help with the hares, he held the door open and waited patiently for Claude to hobble back through. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dinner first, Claude decided as his belly growled at him. Afterwards would come the plans and schemes he was so well known for. As soon as Mercedes released her healer’s grip on him, Claude was going to rush back to Byleth’s side, and he needed to be prepared.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth watched from the large window that spanned the length of the entire east wall. She rested her hand against the soft gauzy material of the curtains, standing to the side so she would not be seen. Her fingers tangled in the fabric absentmindedly, flicking a tassel back and forth each time it came to rest back against her forefinger.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Below her people milled about in the courtyard. Multiple things had happened in quick succession. A contingent of Fódlani had arrived, Seteth at their head. She spotted a shock of pink that announced Hilda’s presence. Her head was tilted down, holding a whispered conference with Marianne who was never far from her side anymore. As Marianne helped Hilda unbuckle her saddle bags, their hands lingered against each other longer than necessary. Leonie walked away from them to report to Lysithea and Nader, who had come out to greet them in Byleth’s place.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They had all become mixed in with Kir’s own travel party who were making their final preparations before heading out. Kir stood on the steps that lead into the palace, near but removed from the conversation between Nader and Leonie. His head snapped up, gaze going to the gates.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth followed it, watching as even more messengers charged into the courtyard, adding to the chaos.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir was down the steps and beside the messenger before the man even had time to dismount. Even from this distance Byleth could see that Kir’s normally calm and constructed demeanour had an edge of frantic to it. There was a short exchange between them, which resulted in Kir raising his voice. Byleth could not make out the words, but she heard the frustration and desperation in the intelligible noises. Heads turned toward them, Kir’s face rapidly transformed to a sheepish expression and he excused himself, taking the stairs into the palace two at a time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth watched a moment longer, as the hustle and bustle returned to the courtyard, before she turned away. There would be time later to greet her friends, when her heart did not feel stuck in her throat and blocked her words. Right now she needed to know whatever news there was that had caused Kir to react the way he had.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She did not know where to even begin trying to find him, but her feet were taking her in a direction and she was simply allowing the rest of her to follow along. The scent of jasmine wrapped around her as she entered the gardens, and she stumbled as she missed a step. Claude loved the scent of jasmine. They had planters lining their personal balcony full of the fragrant flower. Byleth’s fingers brushed against her temple, remembering the way Claude had smiled at her on their last night together. His talented fingers had woven together a band of the flowers and he had crowned her with a kiss.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The crown was faded now, but preserved between the pages of a diary filled more with keepsakes than words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A heavy shuttering sigh drew Byleth back to the present. She rounded a corner, taking her to a secluded part of the gardens where Claude loved to take private meetings. It was a peaceful place, but everything from the chairs and the tea set to the flowers that bloomed around them were to Claude’s taste, reminding anyone who sat across from him just who wielded power here.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth watched, always watching like some displaced ghost on the sidelines, as Kir ran a hand over his face. He stood beside Claude’s chair, his entire form trembling. He did not drop his hand, so it took Byleth a moment to realize he was crying.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kir?” Byleth voiced before she could stop herself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir’s head snapped up, mortified that anyone had caught him so distressed. “My Queen?” His voice was raw, the words catching as he fought to regain his composure through them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth took a step forward. Her heart did not beat, but it felt like it was racing all the same. It was going to escape her chest if this continued. “I came to hear what the messenger had to say,” she explained.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir took a shuddering breath and shook his head. “Please Byleth, do not make me be the one to tell you this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She did not miss his switch to informality, yet she took another step forward all the same. There was something in her now that was very close to fear. “Kir?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It broke him. She watched his resolve crumble as his name passed her lips. “He...he was from the team working at the pass.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth forgot how to breathe. There was still a team there attempting to finish cleaning the rubble. Had they..? </span>
  <em>
    <span>No!</span>
  </em>
  <span> She would not allow herself to doubt until she had proof before her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“They have finished clearing the pass. They found more bodies.” Kir was forcing himself to explain. “They were in the same state as many of the others. They...they could not identify any of them as him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth let the words wash over her, letting the explanation sink in. The pass was clean. They had multiple unidentified bodies to bury. Byleth refused to believe any of them were Claude’s, he was coming back to her, but Kir....she saw it now. As practical as Kir had been through this whole thing, he had allowed himself some sort of hope, and it had just been snatched from him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the pause that settled between them, Kir shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Byleth watched, always watching, and Kir crumbled completely beneath her stare. A choked sob ripped its way from Kir’s throat, and twin tears fell down his cheeks. “He deserved better than this.” Kir’s voice wavered between rage and a wail. “Not to be crushed and rendered unidentifiable beneath a ton of rock. We cannot even properly lay him to rest!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth was moving before she could think, wrapping her arms around Kir and pulling him close. His head rested against her shoulder, the black fabric of her dress growing wet with his tears. “He deserved better, Byleth, he deserved better,” he repeated over and over. “I...I only just realized how brilliant he was, and then he was taken away.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth held on tighter, her hands fisting into the material of Kir’s shirt as she let him weep. Her own heart felt like it was barely holding itself together, so she clung to Kir as if that would keep her grounded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She would let Kir grieve, would not try to convince him. To give him hope now, when it would be disbelieved and unwelcomed, after what little he had had just been crushed seemed cruel. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Byleth would not accept Claude’s death. Not yet. She had come back to him once before. He would do the same for her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I miss him," Kir whispered as his tears began to dry. Byleth suspected it was more because he had no more than coming to acceptance. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I do too," Byleth murmured. She clung just a little tighter to Kir.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I do not think I have ever had a story that has ever undergone through so many plot rewrites. The essence of what I wanted this to be is still here, but I have had to change a lot to make it feel more in character for both Claude and Byleth. For this reason, this chapter especially has fought me quite a bit. I do hope you all enjoy this new chapter. I will do my best to not take so long with the next chapter.</p>
<p>A huge thanks to Mads for betaing this chapter for me. Like I said, this chapter fought me, and it showed in all the work she had to do to help me with this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Claude had no idea how Mercedes could remain so calm. She sat there, needle and thread gliding through fabric, making it take shape beneath her talented hands. She hummed under her breath, her presence giving their little shack the feeling of an actual home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Still, Claude paced back and forth across the short distance from the door to his cot. His legs ached, his limp becoming more noticeable the longer he refused to sit down. He tried once, but his fidgeting was just as bad. Being cooped up with next to no information was going to drive him insane.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So when another set of footfalls reached his ears, light but deliberately placed to inform them of their approach, Claude completely froze. He strained to listen, even Mercedes’s song falling quiet, and sure enough in the sudden stillness, there came the noise again. It was right by the door now, Claude holding his breath until Dedue’s massive form ducked through the frame.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mercedes stood, putting aside her sewing, and glided across the shack to her husband’s side. Claude watched as she checked Dedue over for any injuries, his large hand coming up to cup her cheek. Dedue’s lips brushed against Mercedes’s forehead, whispering, “I’m fine,” in her ear. Claude felt as if he were intruding on a private moment, and turned his head away. All that really served to do was make his arms ache from their own emptiness. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s all right,” Mercedes said in that soft amused tone of hers. “You can look now. And you, are you hungry?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will make something in a bit,” Dedue insisted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude coughed as he turned back to face them, just in time to see Mercedes shake her head. “Nonsense. Sit down and rest. I will get something for you.” She stepped away from Dedue and strode over to their small kitchen area, her song starting up again. Claude caught the slight shake of Dedue’s head, the beginnings of a fond smile on his lips. There was no arguing with Mercedes, especially not when she was looking after someone she cared for.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He at least had the patience to wait until Dedue’s attention turned to him before Claude asked, “What did you find?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Byleth is fine,” Dedue answered, knowing what Claude wanted to hear. Relief flooded Claude, grateful to have news of her, but he refused to allow himself to give into it completely. “There seems to be an outpouring of sympathy for her. I overheard many speaking of your epic love story cut too short.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The way Dedue said it made it sound as if he were quoting something he had heard on every street corner. It made Claude snort, remembering all the times he had heard rumors of how he had manipulated Byleth into marriage to gain control of her country. But sympathy was good. Sympathy could be used, for a time, but it would not last for long. If the situation negatively affected the population, they would turn on her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“But,” Dedue continued, “there is also fear her grief will get the better of her. She refused to enter her mourning period until the last day I was there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude sucked in a breath, knowing what that meant. Given the city’s distance from the capital, a messenger on wyvern back would have given the news the evening of the same day. With Dedue traveling by foot it would have taken him three days to get back to the shack. Byleth had held out for so long trying to buy him time, and stars above but he knew how much pressure their court could place on a person.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, I’m officially dead then.” Stars, actually saying it hurt. He felt that on some level he had failed Byleth and his country, despite knowing that Mercedes was right, and he had needed to recover. Did Byleth truly believe him dead now? What had been the final argument to make her give in?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue nodded slowly. “It seems the rest of the country has accepted this. There is a certain tension in the air. Everyone is worried about having a Fódlani Queen ruling alone.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She is the Almyran Queen as well!” Claude snapped, unable to help himself. “We united our countries!” He sighed heavily as the anger rolled off of him, sinking down onto his cot. His fingers ran through his hair, Claude wishing he could pluck the solution to make it all better straight from his head.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The gentle sounds of Mercedes moving filled the room, followed by Dedue’s quiet, “Thank you,” when she handed him the food she had prepared. Dedue ate, giving Claude time to think.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Even without a body, funerary rights will have to be prepared,” Claude began, the words tumbling out as he tried to piece his thoughts together to form the whole picture.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue nodded when Claude lifted his head again. “In two weeks,” he confirmed. “Leaving enough time for foreign dignitaries to arrive.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude froze. The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. “Two weeks is plenty of time to reach the capital, even with my limp.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mercedes did not look thrilled at the prospect of him taking a long trip, her lips pressed in a thin line, but she did not protest. Most likely she knew this was coming. She was a smart woman, and Claude guessed she was well aware of the lengths he would go to right now. “If that is the case, I am coming with you. I’m not about to let you die after I just spent so much time putting you back together.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude grinned at her. “Perfect.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Your plan involves us then, I take it?” Dedue’s tone was flat, Claude unable to tell what his reaction would be.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re willing to stay by my side through this. I’m afraid I’ll be asking you to do something you probably won’t want to,” he added, wanting to be upfront with Dedue. It was the least of what he owned the man.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I already told you I would come,” Mercedes answered pleasantly. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And I will not leave her,” Dedue added on without hesitation. “We will see you back to Her Majesty, no matter what it takes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for them, and for the growth Byleth had instilled in him. He doubted he would have the capacity to accept their help if she had not taught him to trust. “Right, okay then. Here’s what we need.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth stood straight and proud, right up until the moment the doors shut behind her. The resounding bang seemed to land on her shoulders, and she slumped beneath its weight. The whispered grief of black gossamer accompanied her every step.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She had welcomed the Fódlani party yesterday with all the pomp such an arrival of important diplomats called for, but beyond a brief chat at dinner she had yet to speak alone with any of them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But now, with only Seteth standing in her private study, the one right next to Claude’s where he had conducted his own more sensitive matters of state, Byleth felt safe enough to let her grief show. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Byleth,” Seteth reached out to her, and Byleth fell into his arms. She did not cry, she had done enough of that over the past months, but she did cling to her trusted friend and advisor. Seteth said nothing when Byleth’s hand wrapped around a fistul of his tunic, letting her just hold on, despite the fact that she was going to leave the fabric horribly crumpled. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I hate these clothes,” she finally whispered under her breath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Seteth pushed her away, just enough so he could look down at her face. There was sympathy in his eyes, perhaps mixed with pity, but Byleth realized that Seteth more than anyone knew her pain. Even after all these long years there was still a painful scar lingering to recall his own grief.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude always seemed to know when she was upset or having a bad day. He would knock on their shared wall, tapping out coded messages to remind her he was there. But there was only silence now. He was not there. He was not-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth sucked in a sharp breath, pushing herself fully from Seteth’s embrace. There was still work to do. There was always more work to do. “Fódlan is looked after?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Always,” Seteth answered, clasping his hands behind his back and standing straighter. “Ferdinand, Lorenz, and Felix are taking a few extra duties on while we are here. They are more than capable of seeing to whatever should happen.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth nodded, taking a deep breath before finally admitting what weighed most heavily on her in all this. “I can feel everything fracturing and sliding between my fingers. I can’t keep it together without him.” Echoes of Kir’s proposed plan rang in her ears. Would she truly wear another man’s ring, take him into her bed, if it meant keeping Claude’s dream alive.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Seteth was grim faced, mulling over his answer a long while before he spoke. “Reports say they found his wyvern, but could not identify Claude himself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth nodded again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Seteth ‘hmm’ed under his breath, his eyes searching for something far away. “Almyran wyverns are some of the best trained in the world. Shamil would not abandon him if there was a crisis; certainly would not leave his side.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth sucked in a sharp breath of air. Until now everyone had thought her grief was manifesting as denial. No one had even entertained the idea with her that Claude might still be alive. “Seteth-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes narrowed to sharp slits, cutting her off, already knowing what she would say. “It seems improbable that anyone could survive that, but this is Claude we are talking about. I would like a little more</span>
  <em>
    <span> proof</span>
  </em>
  <span> before I write him off as gone. And,” he continued, his voice bordering on harsh in a way Byleth knew he was using only so as not to get her hopes up, “even if he did survive the initial incident, there is very little chance he would have made it far after sustaining injuries within the landslide.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“If…” Byleth grimaced, hating the way her voice trembled. “If he did survive, he would not give in. He would do everything to get back to me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Seteth’s face softened all over again. “You sound just like him. The two of you believe so strongly in one another.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth was not sure if it was anything specific Seteth had said, or perhaps just his general support and presence. “I came back to him,” she declared. “Claude will come back to me, even if I have to drag him back here myself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth collapsed into her too large bed face first. Another long day with yet more people testing her for any weaknesses. She did have to admit though, whatever Kir had done was already showing results. The eastern provinces had cooled their heels for the moment, giving her a bit of breathing room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Still, she knew she could not keep going at this pace. Tiana had almost ordered her to bed. Byleth hated it, this quiet moment when Claude’s absence was so pronounced. She pounded her fists against the sheets, flipping herself over onto her back. This was not the way to go on.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She missed him. She wanted him close.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth forced herself off the bed, stripping off black cloth as she padded across the floor, uncaring that by the time she reached his wardrobe she was completely bare.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth threw open the door to the king’s extensive closet, remembering the way Claude would rub his hand against the nap of his neck and offer her that awkward smile. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t think I’ll live long enough to wear all of these, even if I never repeat an outfit,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he had joked to her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he came back Byleth was going to give him a clear warning that any jokes about his own death would be swiftly punished.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She walked past the rich fabrics and decorating embroidery, straight back to the more casual clothes Claude preferred. Byleth easily found the cream colored shirt she had seen her husband in so many times before, the sleeves loose allowing free movement, the collar formed into a deep v with a leather cord crisscrossing between each side. Claude never pulled it tighter, instead leaving the shirt open for the coolness it offered, not to mention his own satisfaction when he caught Byleth staring at him. She snorted as she pulled the shirt to her, hugging it close, remembering the wink he would throw her way. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The crown fit so well upon her husband’s head. He had all the tools he needed to set his schemes into place, building a world without walls. There were times, of course, where the weight of responsibility weighed heavily, when he needed to retreat to lean upon her for a quiet moment, but for the most part the throne energized Claude. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth took a deep breath, seeking the scent of him upon the fabric. It was futile, she knew. The smell of cinnamon and pine had long since faded from his pillow. Now it smelled more like the floral soaps she bathed with. Still, Byleth slipped the shirt on over her head, hugging her arms around herself, if only to pretend for a moment it was his arms encasing her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A soft derisive laugh left her lips. He had gone and made her so sentimental. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Voices rose, loud enough for Byleth to hear even from the closet. She blinked, straightening her stiff back. How long had she spent like that? Byleth’s feet padded across the tile floor, listening for a moment at the bedroom door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I have orders to see Her Majesty as soon as I return.” Byleth sucked in a sharp breath, recognizing Kir’s voice. She had not realized he was on his way back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The Queen is asleep,” Judith responded, her tone uninterested. Byleth could easily picture the older woman with her hand on her hip, watching Kir with a bored expression. If he was not careful, Judith would easily spring at him if the situation came to it. “Whatever you have to tell her can wait until morning.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Again, my orders were clear,” Kir protested. His own voice was steady, two unyielding objects clashing against one another. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth sighed, turning the handle to the bedroom door. She should intervene now before Judith physically threw Kir out of the royal chambers and caused a diplomatic incident. Kir’s eyes darted to her immediately, whatever word was on his tongue falling flat as his jaw dropped open. Judith turned slowly, raising a brow at Byleth as she took her in.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was only then Byleth remembered her current state of dress. The shirt was large enough to cover a few inches of her thighs, but it still left most of her legs on full display. The collar sat open, revealing a decent amount of cleavage, while the rest of the shirt hung loosely upon her, making her frame seem smaller than it truly was. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Modesty was never something Byleth had paid much attention to before, and she would not allow it to make her look weak now. A beat of silence wove its way through the room, Byleth taking the moment to allow the mantle of queenship to settle itself over her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Welcome home, Kir,” she said, the same tone she used when sitting upon the throne. “What do you have to report?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir continued to stare at her for a moment, his mouth working up and down with only unintelligible noises falling out. His eyes swept over her body, lingering upon her chest, but he quickly caught himself. Kir’s head tilted back, staring at a point just above her head so that his eyes could no longer wander. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he finally managed out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Judith threw Byleth a smirk over her shoulder when Kir’s voice cracked on the last word. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir cleared his throat before beginning again. “Your Majesty, I have returned with the promises from the eastern provinces that they will continue to support your claim on the throne so long as you continue in your duty to care for them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So in other words, they are pacificed for the moment, but watching for the first slip I make,” Byleth clarified, cutting through the diplomatic pattern of Kir’s words.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, for the most part, yes.” Kir nodded his head, the corner of his lips twitching just the tiniest bit. “If we can keep trade flowing to the north, it will be even harder for them to rebel. Arman has had his coffers filled and his people are well fed. It is harder to provoke people to battle upon a full belly.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir paused, his eyes flicking down for a moment only to be reminded of why he was not looking at his queen. His cheeks flushed, and his eyes returned to their previous position. “However, the one I truly worry about is Firuz. He railed against the influx of foreigners into the country, but…” He paused, taking time to mull over his words. “I do not wish to imply anything untoward, my lady, but I swear he was hosting Morfian merchants in his own household. I would advise a conversation with Farzin. Firuz is his nephew, and while I believe I have managed to stay his hand for now, Farzin may be able to more successfully influence Firuz.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth thought of the oldest of Khalid’s advisors, who had served both his father and grandfather. Outside of meals, she had not actually seen Farzin since the first council after the news of Claude’s disappearance. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded her approval. “Tomorrow, Kir. I’m sure Advisor Farzin needs his sleep more than the rest of us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir flushed further, his cheeks a bright red. Judith seemed particularly pleased to see him squirm. “Of course, Your Majesty.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good night, Kir,” Byleth said to dismiss him. As he swept into a bow, she added, “Thank you for your service, Kir. Khalid would be thankful for all you have done to help hold the country together through this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Kir straightened up again, his face was somber. He nodded once more to Byleth, his voice whisper soft when he uttered, “Thank you, Lady Byleth. I will continue to do all I can.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Judith waited until the doors shut behind Kir before she turned to full face Byleth. She raised her eyebrows at her again, and Byleth simply shrugged her shoulders as the mantle of queen slid from her like an unclasped cloak. “That boy is going to be so confused for the next few days.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Byleth asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean,” Judith half laughed, “he is going to be pulled in about a dozen different directions between guilt, desire, and duty.” When Byleth blinked owlishly at her, Judith just waved her off. “Go back to bed, Byleth. You certainly need the rest, and I’m not going to be on Tiana’s bad side because you didn’t get any sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth nodded and said her good night before returning to the bedroom. She flopped once more onto the bed, curling around Claude’s pillow as she thought about Judith’s words. She had not meant to appear before him so, not when she knew his own feelings were so wrapped up in everything, and felt sorrow for him right alone with disappointment at her own cruelty. However, she was asleep much too soon to give the matter any real thought.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude had been worried about being recognized when they entered the capital. It quickly became apparent that his fear was unfounded. No one suspected the scruffy man with a full unshaven beard hobbling around on a walking stick was actually their king. It certainly served for the moment, but there was a flash of dread that Byleth would not be able to recognize him when he finally revealed himself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was quick to shake that off. Byleth was more clever than that.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Getting into the palace was easy enough. With so many new guests, the palace servants were overwhelmed. Within a few days both he and Mercedes had simple jobs within the royal grounds; Mercedes aiding the royal seamstresses and Claude fletching arrows for the huntmaster. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Petra and Dorothea had come themselves to represent Brigid, arriving even before Claude and Mercedes had. They were greeted as the rest of the diplomats would be, the more private meeting between friends saved for later so as not to show favoritism. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Sreng ambassador arrived the day after them. She was quite possibly the largest person Claude had ever seen, rivaled only by Dedue and Nader. Her blond hair was woven into braids, black warpaint tattooed into a stripe that crossed her eyes. “She is a chieftain,” Mercedes explained to him when they had finished their work for the day. “Apparently she has been looking for a wife that could be her equal for quite some time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude did not even need to ask if she had come to judge Byleth for herself. He had known the sharks would start circling, but to do so at his own funeral just seemed crude. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Albenia and Dagda arrived not long after that, both their ambassadors also of equal eligibility. A Ylissian ambassador arrived a day later, while Nohr and Hoshido both sent letters to express their own condolences. And yet, the one country Claude was waiting for had yet to arrive, despite Morfis’s closeness to Almyra. He had to wait for them, lest he reveal himself too early and blow the plan entirely. Still, it was torture knowing Byleth was so close. He spent his days listening to the gossip about the queen, how she was doing, and who she could possibly marry. Many hopes and bets seemed to be on his cousin Kir, which was something Claude really did not want to think about. With all his other misgivings about the situation, Kir looked too much like him for Claude to think of the situation as anything other than haunting.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They had been at the palace for a good week when Claude’s hand slipped, cutting his thumb on the knife he was using to shape arrows. His ears strained, listening for the voice he had just heard. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You should be resting, Advisor.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude’s heart pounded so hard he thought it might burst out of his chest. He grabbed his walking stick and forced himself to stand, half scooting until he could peek around the hedge in the garden he had been working beside. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Farzin leaned upon a younger man, one of his own personal servants, as the old advisor enjoyed his walk through the gardens. “Everyone keeps telling me that,” Farzin said, his voice clear and steady despite his hunched body. “I only have so much time left. I will rest when it is done,” the advisor said with a laugh. “Besides, I would welcome my friend when he arrives.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Advisor,” the servant answered, a fond smile flashing across his face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude had to remind himself to breathe, evening out the ragged intakes his breathing had become. Even with the few words the servant had spoken, Claude knew that voice. He would never forget it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was the man who had stood over him in the rubble, conversing in Morfian with the two others who had caused the landslide. Claude’s fingers curled around the half finished arrow he still held, itching to bury it within the man’s neck. Shamil, his entire traveling party, they were all dead because of this man.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There you are.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude spun around, Mercedes’s eyes widening at the ferocity on his face. “Oh dear,” she whispered, stepping to his side and offering him her shoulder to lean against until she could deposit him back in the chair he had earlier sat upon. “I can see that something has happened, but we don’t have much time,” she whispered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mercedes shoved a few cloth covered biscuits into his hands. “Eat up,” she told him. “The Morfian King just arrived. We’ll need to hurry if you want to get there in time for the greeting.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude shoved one of the biscuits into his mouth, the taste of them ashen in his mouth, but knowing Mercedes would see to it he ate first. “Wait,” he said around a mouthful of crumbs, “the King himself?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Mercedes nodded. “Yes, and he has arrived with wagons full of what look like gifts for Byleth.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Of course Morfis would try for Byleth’s hand as well, but that move had to be the most brazen of all. Claude shoved the second biscuit in his mouth, still chewing as he regained his feet. Mercedes aided him, the two of them walking through servants’ passages to avoid the general hubbub, but there was quite a bit of traffic in the passages that led to the throne room. It was only due to Mercedes gently prodding ‘excuse me’ and the flash of a smile that spoke of how she would end them, that gained them a position close enough to peek out into the throne room itself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude’s breath caught in his throat. Byleth sat upon the throne, the wyvern diadem on her head. It was the first glimpse of her he had gotten in months. She looked every inch the queen she was, but Claude could see the weariness around her eyes and in the way she held her shoulders. He longed to rush out there and hold her in his arms, promising he would make everything better.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a little longer,” Mercedes whispered to him. Her words could easily be mistaken for the arrival of the foreign king should anyone heard her, but Claude knew she had guessed his own train of thought. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>King Makoa entered the throne room to a blast of trumpets. He was dressed in his own mourning clothes, but the sway of his walk and the smile on his lips did not make it seem as if he was in the least sorry for the loss Byleth was facing. Claude very much longed to punch the pleased look off his face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His hands tightened around his cane, watching Byleth welcome Makoa. The Morfian King dipped into a bow, offering less than sincere condolences. Claude watched Byleth’s eyes narrow, a sense of satisfaction washing over him that she was able to maintain her calm, but her displeasure was obvious for anyone who knew her well. Byleth seemed like she just wanted the whole ordeal to be over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude’s satisfaction only grew when Cyril swept into the room, unseen until he made his way up to the throne. Makoa’s face fell at the interruption, but Byleth’s eyes went wide. She sat forward in her throne, whispering some urgent words to Cyril who nodded and left once more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth finished the welcome, putting only enough into it to not be rude, but Makoa looked less than pleased that his time with the queen had been cut short. Once he was escorted out, his retinue on their way to their guest quarters, Cyril showed in a long figure. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth watched him walk in, the crowd murmuring at who this newcomer could be. But Byleth ignored them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dedue,” Claude read from her lips as she stood from her throne. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue nodded, shifting uncomfortably under the gazes of the crowd. “Your Majesty, I thought I might be of service to you now.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth walked down the steps of the dias, faster than decorum dictated, only stopping short of throwing her arms around Dedue. “You are most welcome here, of course, Dedue,” she said in that same strained whisper, easily heard over the silence of the crowd. Although that did not last long when she said his name. Murmurs spread through the court, many recognizing the name of the mysterious name who had fought with their king and queen only to disappear without trace. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dedue had returned, and Claude had his distraction.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some of you may have noticed the chapter count went up. I will not be doing what I did with Dance and suddenly we go from 5 to 20. I have the rest of the story outlined now, and when I looked at it the last few scenes didn't really fit in the last chapter. So I'll wrap everything up with an epilogue for those last two scenes after the next chapter, and then we'll be done!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Byleth did not like Makoa.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he was shown into the Queen's office, sweeping in as if it were his right, the nod of his head was more sardonic than reverent. He stared at her without seeing her, only seeing the prize that awaited should he manage to obtain her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He did have a certain amount of charm, and Byleth could see how his easy smiles swayed hearts, but she had dealt with Sylvain and his flattery too long to fall for any of Makoa’s tricks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am grateful you allowed me a private meeting,” the king said once he was seated. “I have heard how important Dedue is to you, but I wished to spend more time with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did not mean to give insult,” Byleth answered, picking her words carefully. The wyvern diadem rested comfortably on her head, its ruby eyes staring into Makoa. She would not waver in front of him. “My time has been much in demand the last few months.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can imagine,” Makoa said gravely, dipping his head in acknowledgement. “It was a shock when word reached us of your husband’s death.” Makoa’s eyes were glued to her, watching for any sign of weakness, but Byleth had heard the phrase enough times now to pretend it did not affect her. “When I last saw him at your coronation he was so full of life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was very proud that day,” Byleth agreed, her voice the strange monotone that unnerved so many. “I suppose you are worried about the trade arrangement my husband brokered with you?” She steered him toward politics, refusing to allow Makoa the familiarity he was searching for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Makoa’s eyes narrowed, a subtle movement, but Claude had trained Byleth well in this area. He was studying her, waiting for her to show any crack in her armor. “It is one of the things I am concerned about,” Makoa drawled. “That agreement has been incredibly lucrative for us both.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth nodded. “My husband had a clear plan for this country. I plan on carrying it out. Our trade agreement will remain in place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excellent.” He smiled wide, nothing more than venom. “Perhaps then we could actually discuss expanding this deal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Certainly,” Byleth answered, watching Makoa lose his smile, regaining it so quickly that had she blinked she would have not noticed, when she added, “I shall have Nader meet with you while you are here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would have hoped,” Makoa said slowly, each word measured, “to discuss the issue with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth tilted her head, faking confusion. “But Nader brokered the first deal with you. Was his services unfit then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another long moment in which the two rulers stared each other down. Byleth had backed Makoa into a corner, something he had not expected. If he insisted on meeting with Byleth, he insulted Nader, and by extension Byleth herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” Makoa eventually answered, a low laugh running through his words. “It would please me greatly to meet with your representative.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth nodded, standing from her seat. Makoa, not risking another insult, stood as well. “Forgive me for dismissing you yet again, but there is much to do before the ceremonies for my husband.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mention of her dead husband nullified whatever hurt Makoa received from being waved off yet again. “Of course, Lady Byleth. Please, should there be anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to call upon me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth sighed heavily when she shut the door to the Queen’s study behind him, leaving her alone once again. At least he had not pressed and attempted to get her alone again. She took another deep breath, eyes closed against the noise floating through her window. She would address it soon, it was her duty to oversee, but the last place Byleth wished to be was at the side of the pyre that would burn an effigy of her husband in his remembrance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Apologizes, Dedue,” Byleth greeted her old friend gently as she walked into her private study, the one tucked within the royal chambers. It felt safer here than the more official setting of the Queen’s office she had just come from. And it was certainly further away from the bustle of funerary preparations. “Your sudden arrival ruffled a few of the Morfian king’s feathers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dedue dipped his head, making the gesture seem as much of a bow as Byleth would tolerate. “I did not mean for my arrival to cause you trouble.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth shook her head, reaching up to remove her diadem. It felt so heavy right now. For the first time in months she felt as if something had brought her happiness. “Please do not apologize, Dedue. I would much rather have told him to bugger off and come to speak with you immediately.” She sank into the seat behind her desk as the corner of Dedue’s lips turned up in a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here. I was not sure what had happened to you after Enbarr.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dedue nodded, although he seemed somewhat uncomfortable. He had never broadcast his emotions, something Byleth had related to and taken comfort in the bulwark of his presence. Even with Dedue being in a different house, they had spent a fair amount of time together within the greenhouse. Byleth still remembered how to care for the rare Duscar blooms. She had a few of them growing in her private gardens. “I had planned on living the rest of my life hidden away from the world.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stepped to the side of the room, Byleth watching him curiously. It was not simple pacing. No, Dedue was searching for something. “But,” he continued, running his fingers along the length of the wall, “I found a way I could repay you and His Majesty for helping me complete my mission.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The servant’s entrance popped open beneath his hands with a soft hiss. Dedue swung open the section of wall and made a beckoning gesture. Byleth stood, attempting to catch sight of whatever he was bringing through the hidden entrance. The corner of Dedue’s lips lifted, and Byleth would swear it was a smirk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A figure stepped forth, tipping his head to Dedue. Byleth’s breath caught in her throat. His skin was darker, sun kissed by his long days in the sun, his beard full and covering his chin and jaw. He carried a cane now, but the smile he threw her way, the way it touched those emerald eyes of his, he could be no one else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth stood frozen, and then all at once she was a burst of motion. She knocked an ink well off her desk as she both used it to pull herself forward and catch herself from falling in shock. She rushed across the room on unsteady feet. Her hands rose, hovering just above his cheeks, afraid that if she touched him she would discover he was only a dream. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But those eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He even smelled right, as if he had just indulged in a cup of tea before coming to her. Pine with a hint of the cinnamon he snuck from the kitchens.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her voice trembled, the words stuck in her throat and coming out in a croak. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had to be him. She could not deal with this if it were some trick or illusion, but she needed to be sure before she let him slide back into her heart again, filling the cracks that had formed in his absence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had to be sure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claude felt Byleth’s hands trembling just over his cheeks, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “It’s you?” she asked again, the words coming easier the second time around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew she had to ask, knew the second meaning in those words. Those Who Slither in the Dark were gone, but their abilities to impersonate someone were not forgotten. Claude covered her hands with his own, letting his cane drop to the floor, pressing her palms to his face. He inhaled, taking a moment to take in the sensation of her coolness against his warmth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s me,” he finally answered, his voice no more than a whisper. He pressed his forehead against hers, overwhelmed by her nearness. “No flower crown today?” he asked, the laughter in his voice shaky as he evoked memories of their last night together. “Ah, but the jasmine has probably dried out. I’ll have to make you a new one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth let out a choked sob, a broken sound that tore at Claude’s heart. He wrapped his arms </span>
</p><p>
  <span>tighter around her, holding her as close as he could without crushing her. He was not sure if he initiated or if Byleth did, perhaps it was some instinctual need on both their parts, but their lips sought each other. Fire flooded through him and his hands twisted in the fabric of her dress. It was the spark of stars, of coming home, new and exciting, familiar and calming, all at once.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kissing, holding, feeling, those were the only things that mattered in his world right now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They withdrew only for air, hands on each other’s cheeks, only to dive back in a moment later. He was home. He was back in her arms and nothing else mattered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except, that was not true.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claude sighed as he pulled away again, every bit of his willpower tested. “I will tell you everything, my star, but we don’t have much time before you will be missed and someone comes in here looking for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth’s hands balled into fists around handfuls of Claude’s shirt. “If you think you are leaving my side ever again,” she whispered, and Claude had no doubt of the lingering threat she let hang in the air between them. It made his insides feel all warm and fuzzy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claude placed a quick, placating peck to her lips. “Just for a little longer, and then never again,” he agreed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth frowned at him. He could see her debating dragging him back to their chambers right then and there, guarding him for the rest of his days like some angry dragon protecting her greatest treasure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just until we catch the people that tried to separate us,” he promised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth sucked in a breath. “I thought it was too much of a coincidence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claude let his head fall back against Byleth’s, nodding as his nose brushed against hers. “You’re right, my love. The landslide was caused by magic. Morfian magic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth face went flat. “Did Makoa do this so he could marry me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claude nodded slowly, not lifting his head, watching the fury spread across her face. “I think so. To try and combine all three countries and start his own empire,” Claude clarified, so very glad her anger was not directed at him. His wife could be rather scary at times. “You can’t charge in and kill him right now, love.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth glared at him and Claude found himself gulping. But she knew that was not an option. He could see it in the way her shoulders slumped. She would not start a war. That did not, apparently, mean she was yet convinced to let him go. “You have a plan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Claude smirked at her and Byleth softened under his warmth. “You do have to meet with Makoa one more time without stabbing him. Can you do that, By?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth sighed heavily, overly dramatic really and so very much like he would do when he was teasing her. “If I must.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His fingers ran through her hair, his heart leaping when she leaned into his touch. “Just a little longer, Byleth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hummed, her eyes dropping closed as she focused on his touch. Claude could see the wheels turning in her head, could see the thin line her lips pressed into as kept the words on her tongue. Claude poked her cheek, smirking down at her bewildered blink. “What are you trying not to say, By?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pinched his own cheek in response, Claude unable to hold back his laughter at Byleth’s blank expression. She could not fool him. He caught that spark in her eyes, the one he watched awaken, that had captivated him and pulled him to her. “I was,” she answered, standing on tiptop to press a kiss to his abused skin, “thinking if there was any way you could sneak into our chambers tonight, but I would not be the reason for your plan falling apart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claude placed a hand over his heart, gasping dramatically in shock. “Your Majesty! How scandalous!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth rolled her eyes and lightly smacked his bicep, easily falling back into his arms when he pulled at her. “I know you’re going to try it now. Just be careful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will.” He pressed the promise against her forehead, letting his lips linger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A cough echoed through the room, reminding the two that they were not alone. Dedue did not look guilty about the interruption, but he did seem regretful about the necessity. “Forgive me, but Her Majesty will be missed if she is gone for much longer. It would not serve if someone were to come check on her and find you here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claude sighed, taking a step away from Byleth. His hands lingered on her arms, taking every ounce of his willpower to let them drop back to his sides. “I love you, Byleth.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“More than the stars in the sky,” Byleth responded, the words Claude had said so many times when they lay together at night as he wrapped his arms around her. He almost wavered then, wanting to declare he would remain at her side and screw everything else, but she saw it, and she was the one strong for both of them. She repeated his earlier words back at him, “Just a little longer, Khalid.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One night. One more night apart and then it would all be over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kir stared grumpily down into his tankard, letting the mirth of the others at the table wash over him. He had maybe allowed himself to indulge in too much of the barley beer that was popular in the capital city in order to deal with everyone. He had tipped over that line of pleasantly dulled senses to outright inability to focus on anything for long. Forming thoughts was becoming a problem.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chieftain from Sreng watched him with a critical eye, uninterested in the gazes that lingered on her. Dark ink had been tattooed in a line on her face that crossed her eyes, making her stare that much more intense when it settled upon someone. She had already defeated three seasoned warriors in arm wrestling matches, nearly breaking an arm when one sat across from her with a smarmy smile and an inappropriate comment. The chieftain had made it very clear after that that she would allow no man to touch her unless it was to break him apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, it did not stop the court from becoming fascinated with her. Strength was a trait that tended to make Almyran men go a bit weak in the knees when it came to a potential partner. Ironic, really.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chieftain had found herself a seat across from Kir not long ago and refilled his cup, watching as Kir continued to throw back the drink. “You are rather sullen,” she finally pointed out, her Almyran spoken pointedly through a thick northern accent.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is a funeral we have all come together for,” Kir pointed out, not noticing how slurred his words were becoming. “We have lost a king in his prime. The blatant frivolity-” Kir spat the word, almost sliding into the gap between the table he was leaning on and the bench his backside was sat upon precariously with the force of it, “-of this gathering ignores all that.” Kir leveled a glare at the chieftain, or at least he attempted. “So many here are treating this as an engagement celebration rather than helping the queen mourn her loss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chieftain made a noise hallway between a huff and a laugh as she picked up her own mug and took a long draw. “Your queen is a leader,” the chieftain pointed out, speaking slowly so that Kir’s wavering focus could understand her. “She does not get that luxury. Nor do we have the capacity of grace to allow her, not if we are to do what is best by our own people.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kir blinked, opening his mouth only to realize he had no words, and closing it again. The chieftain made that strange noise again and set her tankard down. She swung her leg over the bench, and Kir was not entirely sure he imagined the way the ground trembled beneath the impact, pausing to pin Kir with one last stare. “Get some air, Steward, else you will end up in a heap among the drunkards. It would not do for you to embarrass your queen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By the time Kir had processed her words, the chieftain was already gone. He pushed himself to his feet, the world spinning wildly in that moment. As much as he did not like the chieftain or her reason for being in Almyra, she had a point. The room was becoming stifling, and it would be unbecoming of him to pass out now. A small embarrassment, but it would cause another bump in Byleth’s road, making it harder for him to support her should other courtiers be distracted by mocking him to complete their business.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kir sighed as he passed the long empty dias. Byleth had not come down to dinner, had not made any appearance since she had welcomed Dedue yesterday. Kir felt so helpless. He wanted to be by her side, to help her, but he knew it must be hard for her. His looks were so similar to Khalid’s. Not to mention his proposal that they both knew would have to happen soon with how many people were already circling her. Byleth would not waiver on her year of mourning, but an announcement of what she planned for Almyra’s future would not wait as long. As tackless as it felt, and as much as it sickened him, he would have to approach her not long after the funeral ceremony ended.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He breathed a sigh of relief when he stepped outside, the chill air helping to refocus his mind. Not that his thoughts left the royal couple, but at least they felt clearer now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had not lied to Byleth when he said Khalid had shone so brightly upon returning to Almyra. Khalid had come with the force of the sun to the throne, warming those who pleased and supported him, and burning those who stood in his way. And when Byleth had come, she had kept that light. She was the moon to Khalid’s sun, a gentle light, but one that would not shy from shining upon the darkest places. There was a smoothness to the way they worked together, something so incredible it took Kir’s breath away when he saw them together, something that should have been impossible outside of the stories.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And yes, his heart yearned for the amazing woman at his cousin’s side, strong and beautiful, powerful and resourceful. He looked at them and ached with want.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How did he live up to that? How did he manage Khalid’s dream and keep it going? How did he do all that and make Byleth smile?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kir was snapped out of his reverie by the whisper of voices. It took him a moment to realize he had wandered deep into the garden’s maze. Thinking he had stumbled upon lovers looking for a private moment, and swallowing against the bile rising in his throat from jealousy, Kir turned to go. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Our part is done. Your master must gain the queen’s hand on his own,” a smooth voice said, barely contained anger underlying his words.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You would pull away now? Before it is truly finished?” another voice asked in accented Almyran, her voice lilting with a Morfian accent. The woman clicked her tongue, not hiding her disgust.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have already risked much for you,” the man’s voice growled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what will that be worth if the queen takes any to her bed besides my master?” the woman countered. “Do you really think anyone else will be as kind to you as my master? The Sreng chieftain? Kir? Hmm?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kir is easy enough to deal with,” the man answered dismissively. “We have already risked too much to bring you this far. If your king is so talented, he can win the Queen on his own.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman snorted. “I fail to see what else you have to lose if you are discovered. You helped kill a king, after all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kir’s blood froze in his veins as on the opposite of the hedge there was a brief struggle, as if the man were attempting to forcefully silence the woman.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut your mouth, you stupid cow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever she said in response was too muffled for Kir to make out. All he knew was that the struggle had repositioned them right next to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had killed Khalid. The landslide was not an accident. They had jeopardized his dream. They had stolen those brilliant smiles from the world. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They fell silent, the night going still around them. Had he made a noise in his shock to alert them? Kir’s hand went to the hilt of his dagger than was ever worn on his belt, holding his breath. “Find what made that noise and silence them,” the man hissed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Almost immediately, Kir felt a warmth wash over him, as if it were searching him out. His dagger pierced through the bush, slicing through branch and leaf. The blade struck home, cutting into flesh and muscle. He heard the soft gasp from the woman, that moment of shock as she realized it would be one of her last. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man cursed, the weight on Kir’s dagger growing heavy when he dropped her, threatening to drag him down with her. His arm was down, drink keeping him from recovering his balance before the man burst through the hedge. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kir did not fully register the pain. Not until he tried to breathe. Furious eyes stared down at him, a strong hand keeping the stiletto buried in his throat. Kir knew that face. Farzin’s manservant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...Farzin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Farzin, who had loyally served two kings his entire life, had gone and betrayed a third. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kir never would have thought-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The manservant attempted to pull his arm away, but Kir grabbed on. He could not let him pull the stiletto free. Kir would bleed out before he managed to take five steps. The blade jerked, pain registering in every nerve of Kir’s body as the blade cut deeper. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was going to die.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was going to die without warning Byleth. Someone had to tell her. She had to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Someone - </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Someone shouted a word Kir could not understand, flame licking the back of the man a second later. He cried out in pain, pitching forward. The stiletto went deeper still.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kir’s vision was going dark, his hands shaking as he continued to try to hold on. They were slick and warm, a strong iron smell in the air. He was still holding on when the manservant dropped to his knees and kneeled over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Kir, what the hell are you doing here?” The manservant’s hand was replaced with another, moonlight framing dark curls. Emerald eyes bore into him, wide with worry. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to walking with this cane.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me see him, Claude,” a woman’s voice said. It was soft and sweet, and left no room for disobedience. “Hold the blade still. Only move when I tell you to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Kir was dead. He had to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Khalid was here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>/</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth stilled, those three words spoken in the dark filling her with the familiar feeling of adrenaline pumping through her veins. The unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn accompanied it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stay here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? No! Cyril! What if it’s a ghost!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lysithea, we’re here to protect the Queen. I need you at my back and between her and whatever trouble that could be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth slipped from bed, grabbing her own sword on the way to the bedroom door. She cracked it open to see Cyril at the opposite end of the sitting room, Lysithea standing in the middle with magical power flowing through her, ready to destroy whatever strange specter had dared cross them. Cyril reached out his hand, going to open Byleth’s private study, when the door flew open. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A miasma licked the doorframe, an axe swinging forward right after. Byleth’s fingers tightened around her sword, raising it into a defensive position. “Hey!” a familiar voice shouted. “I did not come this far to be killed in my own chambers!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth’s sword clattered to the ground, Lysithea and Cyril staring at the emerging figure in absolute shock. “Claude!” Lysithea demanded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re covered in blood,” Byleth pointed out, noticing her husband’s state as he straightened. “Are you hurt?” She was already halfway across the room, Lysithea turning to stare at her in the same open mouthed shock she had leveled at Claude.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claude softened when he saw her, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. He shook his head, ducking back into the room and throwing someone’s arm over his shoulder. “No, it’s not mine.” He groaned as he dragged an unconscious Kir through the door, Mercedes supporting his other side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth rushed forward, helping to relieve Claude. She saw the way his legs shook. It must have truly troubled him, for when Cyril offered his own support, Claude gladly leaned on him. The two cousins were awkwardly walked through the room, deposited onto two of the plush couches.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, my star, you got me in your chambers tonight after all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Byleth stared at Claude’s wide grin. She was torn between a dozen different emotions, wanting to laugh and cry, and simply curl up next to him and never let him go again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lysithea beat her to a reaction. “YOU’RE ALIVE!?!” she screeched. “Claude, you had better be alive, because if you’re a ghost I’m going to kill you!” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Why yes, I did include more of the giant lesbian chieftain lady just to make Anam flustered.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's done! I've got the epilogue written as well, so that will be up next week. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me through this. I hope you enjoy! </p>
<p>Kir accepts all your apologies.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Come on, By. When else am I going to get a chance to attend my own funeral?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Let’s make a compromise on that. One that doesn’t involve the risk of you burning to death as you make your triumphant return.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Makoa was gleeful.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth had asked for his presence before the funeral ceremonies commenced. As much as everyone seemed to think she would take Kir, it was a point in Makoa's favor that he was the one summoned. As Khalid’s widow, Byleth should not be meeting with anyone before the ceremony, but she had called for him. He had his chance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A guard stepped inside the Queen’s office, softly announcing his presence. Byleth’s own gentle answer came back, and the door was held open for him. Makoa had to school his face to keep the pleased smirk off his lips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Queen Byleth,” Makoa greeted, breathless, already imagining a time he could say her name without the title. “You look beautiful.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was no lie. Byleth was dressed in a black gown, the back fluttering out from her shoulders, giving her the appearance of wings. Clear gemstones were sewn into the hem of her gown, catching the fabric to make them seem just as dark. She wore her diadem, hair wild and loose around her neck. A dark steel collar to match the diadem rounded her throat, a large black opal hung from it, resting against her décolletage. Makoa had lucked out. He still would have wanted Byleth if she were ugly, this was all for the power she would give him after all, but Byleth was enchanting. She was not the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but there was a charisma to her that drew people in. He would be lucky indeed to finally take Byleth out of those mourning clothes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth’s eyes were hard and sharp, her jaw clenched tight. She walked to a chair, part of a pair that faced away from the door and out toward the bay window. Her hand gripped the top of the high back, her words dangerously even when she spoke. “I believe we have something to discuss, King Makoa.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Makoa answered slowly, sensing danger. “I have much to discuss with you. Which particular topic did you wish to address?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The murder of my husband.” Byleth turned, green eyes pinning him in place.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What did she know? No, his agents had covered their tracks. Had Farzin done something to raise suspicions? Makoa would kill him if that old man had messed this up!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Your Majesty,” Makoa answered slowly, drawing out his words to give himself time to think. “Your husband’s death was a tragic accident-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Makoa’s words caught in his throat at the sight of a hand lifting up from that high-backed chair to cover Byleth’s own, a dead man rising from the seat. “I thought I could listen to this, but…” Khalid trailed off shaking his head. “No excuses, Makoa. I have gone through too much by your hand to listen to this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” spilled from Makoa’s mouth before he could stop himself. “You’re dead!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently not,” Khalid said with a shrug. His motions were careless, but his eyes were hard as stone. “Or perhaps I’ve returned to punish you for your sins.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t-” Makoa was panicking, his mind reeling as he attempted to make sense of what was in front of him. He had his advisors to lean on in court when something urgent happened, to cover the moments in which he flailed to find his own thoughts. Here there was none of that. “You can’t think I had anything to do with-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Enough,” Khalid snapped, his voice sending a shock of fear through the other king that immediately had Makoa’s mouth snapping shut. “I already told you we know what you did.” Khalid continued when it became obvious he had Makoa’s attention. “I am going to tell you what happens now, Makoa. As we do not wish to start a war, you will be allowed to leave with your life. This little incident will be pinned on Farzin. Since he decided to take his own life last night when presented with the evidence against him that is easily done.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Makoa tried his best to hide the breath of relief he loosened. He would live and Farzin would take the blame. He would have to thank the gods that the Almyran King had a soft heart and no appetite for war. Perhaps the Fódlani blood that ran through him truly did dilute that Almyran savagery. Even if his first plan failed, it meant he could enact another, attempting yet again to form his empire.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Khalid was a fool, and Makoa would take every advantage.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You will not stay,” Khalid continued after a long pause, drawing Makoa’s attention back to the couple. “You will gather your people and leave immediately.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My absence will surely be noted!” Makoa attempted to protest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Khalid was not swayed. Beside him, Byleth’s eyes narrowed, Makoa flinching back from the judgement they leveled upon him. “I will not have you here any longer. If you insist on staying, I will have your head on a pike right alongside Farzin’s.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, forced to back down. He would make Khalid pay for this insult. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Once you are home, should we hear any more plots or threats against our country, you will pay. Do I make myself understood?” Khalid demanded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Perfectly,” Makoa growled out between his teeth. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Khalid grinned, actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>grinned!</span>
  </em>
  <span> His tone grew lighter, as if he were joking with an old friend. "Just as a warning before you go, from one </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend </span>
  </em>
  <span>to another.” He said the word friend as if he had dipped it in venom and were holding it out to the other king. “I have a cool temper, but my wife, my wife runs hot, and she has the wrath of a goddess behind her."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Makoa spared a glance for Byleth, wishing he could tear the Ashen Demon from his memory. He preferred the sorrowful wife easily able to take advantage of. The woman he saw before him now would fight him tooth and nail rather than give an inch. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He spun on his heel, feeling as if the gods themselves were chasing at his heels.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Flames glinted off ruby eyes. The sound of weeping was muffled as Byleth stepped onto the dais, black skirts a shadow around her. She looked eerily beautiful in the flickering torchlight. The fire licked at the air, hungry to chew away at the night void.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude watched his wife, pride swelling in his chest. He knew he was enraptured with her, that the feeling had only grown over the day of their reunion, just as it had every day of their marriage really, but who could blame him for that. From the elbow Lysithea buried in his ribs, the tiny mage could. Claude pulled the hood of his clock higher, sinking deeper into the heavy fabric.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We have gathered together tonight to mourn the loss of our king,” Byleth began, folding her hands in front of her. “These past months have taken their toll on all of us, but…” Byleth paused, drawing in a deep breath. Even from here Claude could see her lips curling upwards, causing those closest to the dais to murmur amongst themselves. “Tonight all that is at an end. Tonight we have cause to celebrate.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth stepped to the side, turning toward him, as in sync with her Claude stepped forward. He took Byleth’s hand, raising her fingers to his lips and revelling  in her warmth. There were definite rumblings amongst the spectators now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hand still in hers, Claude threw back his hood, allowing the torchlight to catch sight of him. The murmurs turned into gasps, whispers flowing back to those who stood further back. He allowed it to build for a few seconds before he took another step forward.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude spread his arms wide, symbolically embracing his people. “A celebration certainly sounds like a better time. Funerary feasts hold too many tears for a homecoming.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He lowered his arms, the crowd quieting along with him. “I ask your forgiveness for the deception. I would much rather have returned triumphant to the city, but the threat to my person was not yet taken care of. Now, it is my pleasure to announce that those who threatened the throne have paid the price of justice. As much as it breaks my heart, Councilor Farzin was at the center of a plot to steal the crown, but he has failed. Almyra remains strong!” Claude paused as a cheer went up through the crowd, chants of, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Almyra! Almyra!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> reverberated through him like a drum beat. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had to raise his hand once more to call for silence before he could continue. “I invite you all to celebrate with me, to let go of all the worry we have carried over the past months. There is plenty of ale and food for everyone!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another cry went up, and this time Claude let it crescendo, shaking the walls of the palace around them. He was back, the final missing piece of being home. He had his crown and country back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth squeezed his hand, drawing his attention to her. Claude pulled her to him. He leaned on her, the tremble in his legs making itself known now that he had stood for so long without his cane. He leaned on her strength, as he always seemed to, that feeling of completeness stronger than it had ever been.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned in, pressing his lips to Byleth’s. He could swear the roar of the crowd grew even louder around them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir stared back at the displeased expression pinned on him, blinking in wide eyed confusion. “Um, hello,” he decided to greet. Around him conversations continued, many marking the Morfian King’s noticeable absence and that of his party in whispered words and fleeting glances. Even the ambassador had disappeared.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The chieftain’s eyes narrowed, a gruff huff her response. “You rejected my request.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir had to think for a moment, music and laughter loud around him. There was almost a sense of deja vu sitting across from the Sreng chieftain. Were it not for the ache in his throat and the sense of lightness to the festivities, a sense of relief as Khalid’s laughter rang out over it all, this would indeed be exactly like their last conversation. “Do you mean coming to Sreng as an ambassador?” he asked. Khalid had brought the proposal to him about an hour ago, but Kir had quickly rejected it. “Usually ambassadors are assigned, not asked for,” he pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bah.” She waved her hand, brushing him off. Sullenly she took a long drink from her tankard before deeming to speak with him again. “I thought you might be up for a bit of fun. Someone needs to see to it you have some.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir smiled, warmth filling his chest that he was certain was not coming from the alcohol in his cup. “I’m sure someone will see to it at some point.” His gaze sought out Byleth’s mint green hair, knowing he would find Khalid near. It was not difficult, there was a hub around the royal couple, as if the light in the hall spilled directly from them and everyone else were simply moths to their flame. “Khalid only just returned. There will be some troubles to smooth over yet. My duty is to them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The chieftain sighed, sounding thoroughly put out. “Were you a woman, I would simply claim you as my wife to take you back with me. But alas, you do not have the proper assets I look for in a partner.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir knew his face was red. He could feel the heat on his cheeks, and the chieftain’s smile was practically wicked. She even wiggled her eyebrows a few times while staring pointedly at his chest to ensure her point was understood. “Ah yes, such a shame,” Kir managed to stamer, pushing back his chair and standing. “Need some air, excuse me,” he mumbled low, absolutely not fleeing from the chieftain. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In yet another similar beat, Kir feeling much too hot, looked for an exit. He needed some fresh air, hopefully this time without the knife in his throat. He rubbed at his scar, grateful that was all that was left behind. Mercedes was truly talented, and he was grateful to her for working so hard to save him. She had passed out not long after she finished, and Kir could not help wondering if she and her husband were still resting in the guest room Byleth had given them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stumbling out onto a balcony, Kir finally was able to take a deep breath of fresh air. He leaned against the railing, each breath slowing his racing heart. The problem with the quiet that settled around him was that it only revealed more troubles. His thoughts turned back to Khalid and Byleth, to the look of love they continuously shared, always holding onto the other somehow. A pang of jealousy stabbed at his chest, but he shook his head, as if he could shake the thought free. He hated that the thought came to him at all, when they so clearly deserved the joy and love they shared.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir spun, taking the moment to realize the voice was familiar to him. Khalid held his hands up, a silent gesture that he meant no harm. “Just came to check on you,” Khalid explained. “You know I’m not happy if someone at one of my feasts isn’t happy.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” was all Kir managed, even that sticking in his throat. He had perhaps pushed himself too much when speaking with the chieftain. “Just needed some air,” he forced out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Khalid nodded, turned on his heel and headed back inside. Kir was left blinking at the empty spot his cousin had occupied, only to watch it fill a moment later as Khalid returned, a goblet in hand. “Good thing about being king, I can get a drink pretty damn fast.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir gratefully took the drink, answering Khalid’s smirk. The cool juice felt heavenly against his sore throat. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Khalid nodded, coming to stand beside Kir’s side. “I saw the chieftain pouting, so I take it she confronted you on not becoming an ambassador.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was something awkward hanging between them, making Kir’s fingers fidget against the cup as he nodded. He felt the words bubbling up inside him, sticking in his throat. It pressed up against a dam, the pressure building, stronger and stronger still. He knew what was coming, and yet could not stop himself when the dam burst and his mouth opened, releasing the words out into the world. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I saw Byleth naked!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Khalid’s head snapped up, staring at Kir with an open surprise. It quickly became sharp and guarded, Kir swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Care to explain that?” Khalid asked.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, well, not naked, not completely,” Kir tried to explain, tripping over his words. “She was wearing one of your shirts.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something gleamed in Khalid’s eyes that Kir could not place, but it was dark and sharp, a blade upon which, should it cut even a scratch, poison would be the killing tool. But Khalid remained silent, allowing Kir to stumble along.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was delivering a report. I did not mean to see her like that,” Kir rushed on. “I know that might be hard to believe, given that- that I-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Khalid shook his head, that dark look lessening but lingering. “I know when you proposed you were trying to keep Almyra together.” And Kir knew. He knew as Khalid’s eyes locked on him, that Khalid was well aware of his feelings for Byleth. Could he guess at Kir’s feelings for him as well? No, this understanding was of the woman they both held in their hearts, who had given her own to only one.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad you chose to stay,” Khalid continued. “Spirits know I could use your help in reordering this mess left behind in my absence. Well, not much of a mess, but I’d still prefer the help in smoothing out what’s left.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir nodded, accepting his out. “Whatever you need, Khalid.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Khalid squeezed his shoulder, tension draining out of their conversation. “Good. I’ll hold you to that. But for now, recover. We have a lot of work to do and we won’t get a chance to rest again for awhile.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir watched his cousin’s retreating back once more, following him through the crowd. He was seeking something, and Kir was not at all surprised to see mint green hair and a determined stride cutting her way through the crowd. The ache in his heart was a pit, hollowed out. Kir took a deep breath, draining the rest of the cup. He refused to become filled with spite and hatred. His country needed him, his King had decided to trust him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kir would not become a blot of jealousy in their story. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Khalid was right. There was work to be done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, By,” Claude murmured, his warm breath tickling her neck. He leaned heavily on her as they made the slow journey back to their chambers. Lysithea followed close behind, a warp spell on her fingers should it prove necessary. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They slowed at the sound of footsteps accompanied by the familiar creek of leather armor. Byleth felt Claude turn against her, she herself preparing to attack and protect her husband if necessary. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But it was no assassin who rounded the corner. Cyril, in full riding gear, bracers on his arms and a bow on his back, stopped in front of Claude. “I’m ready,” he announced, focused solely on Claude.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude studied him for a long moment, gaze sweeping over the young man, before he answered. “You don’t have to be the one to do this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth kept her silence. She had known Claude had spoken to Cyril and Nader before they made an appearance at the feast. Whatever was going on, she knew Claude would tell her eventually, or trusted she was smart enough not to need it spelled out for her. She recognized the last threads of his plan being tied off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cyril looked somewhere between thoughtful and offended. “Do you plan on keeping your promise?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” Claude’s answer was quick but sincere. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cyril nodded, as if he had already known the answer. “Then I’ll take care of this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I would do it myself-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Cyril cut him off, something he would not have been comfortable with when he first came back to Almyra. “I know that’s how you’d rather it be, but I’ve got this. We shouldn’t have to send another generation to war.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude nodded, a sorrowful curl to his smile. He pushed off of Byleth, standing on his own. He reached out, clasping Cyril’s arm in a farewell. “Thank you, Cyril. Come home safe.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I will.” But Cyril’s eyes were no longer on Claude when he answered. He was looking over the King’s shoulder to his fiancee. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude leaned over, placing a kiss on Byleth’s cheek. “Meet me in our rooms,” he whispered to her before turning to the young mage. “Sithea, can you do the thing?” He wiggled his fingers at her as if that explained everything. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lysithea hurmped and set her hands on her hips. “You know I hate it when you call me that.” Claude merely smiled, Lysithea rolling her eyes in response. “Oh fine!” Her magic wrapped around him, leaning Byleth alone with the young couple when it faded.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Be safe,” Byleth directed to Cyril.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded to her, showing more reverence to her than he had to Claude. It had made Byleth uncomfortable at first, knowing that he did so because Rhea had appointed Byleth her successor, but eventually they had settled into their own rhythm, one in which Byleth felt more friend than overlord. “Of course, Lady Byleth.” He paused, looking between Lysithea and Byleth. “I won’t be gone long, but will you help Lysithea with wedding plans while I’m gone? At least get her to eat? You know how she gets when she throws herself into something.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Lysithea protested! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth smiled, ignoring the outburst and nodding. “Of course, Cyril.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can take care of myself!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, but you also know I worry about you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth slipped away, leaving them to say their goodbyes. She was eager to return to her own rooms as well. She passed only servants and guards, the majority of the court still celebrating the return of their king, as she hurried quicker than was proper back to the royal chambers.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There you are.” Claude grinned when Byleth entered their bedroom, lifting his head from where he lay on their pillows. “I was- mph!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth cut him off, her lips pressing against his. She had kept herself from kissing him like this again since that moment in her office. But there were no more plans to enact tonight, no more posturing for those who needed to see them as strong and capable. She could sink into him and indulge, revel in having him back at her side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude met her just as hungrily, hands tangling in her hair and holding her close, pulling her onto the bed. Their hands roamed each other, neither pausing for long in their desire to remap each other’s bodies. Byleth let go of Claude’s lips only long enough to breathe, pulling back in after a few quick gasps.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They paused only when Claude’s hand slowed, playing along the sleeve of her dress where the fabric met her shoulder. She stared into his eyes, dark with a jealousy Byleth rarely saw there. “Claude?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kir told me he saw you naked.” Claude’s eyes darkened further. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth rolled her eyes. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” Claude’s fingers continued to trace along her skin, right along the fabric of her dress, down across her chest. “He corrected himself a moment later. Said you were wearing my shirt.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There it was. Byleth shivered at that dark gaze, a part of her hungring to allow it to devour her. “You’re more jealous Kir saw me in a shirt than naked?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude nodded, now idly pushing at the shoulder of her gown, slipping it down her arm. “I’m jealous because he got to see you in a way I never have.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her chest squeezed as Byleth understood the request. She slipped off the bed and padded to their wardrobe. She found the shirt easily, she always knew where it was now, and slipped it on. A sense of nervousness passed through her when she reentered, an uncertainty that had not filled her since the first time that had sex together. Byleth stilled, allowing Claude to take in the sight of her, the material too loose and yet revealing so much to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Byleth,” Claude breathed out, breaking her paralysis. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She came back to the bed, sinking into the soft sheets beside him. Claude’s hands were on her again, slipping beneath his shirt but making no move to take it off of her. Byleth showed no such reverence to the clothes Claude was currently wearing, tearing at laces and buttons, enjoying Claude’s laugh as he was undressed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Eager?” he whispered against her lips. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You say that as if you aren’t,” Byleth countered. Her hand reached between them, stroking his hardening cock through his pants. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude groaned, breaking away from her to wiggle out of his pants. Even his eyebrows wiggled when Byleth laughed at his antics. He pushed Byleth back against the sheets, moving over her. Byleth was too busy staring at Claude’s cock, her hand resting on his chest, eager for it to be inside her, to see the wince that crossed over Claude’s face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck,” he cursed. Byleth only just managed to catch him thanks to the last minute warning. His knees gave out, sending him crashing against her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Claude?” Byleth’s hands brushed back his hair, worried at the sight of his eyes closed tight, teeth gritted in pain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“These damn knees.” Claude punched the mattress, burying his face against Byleth so she could not see him. “I can’t do -”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You can do plenty,” Byleth countered, already knowing what that last word would be. She brushed his hair back, kissing his forehead. “But on this you must do what you are so good at, and wait for the best moment to implement a plan. Show some patience with yourself, my love.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude mumbled something against her shoulder. Even though Byleth could not understand the words, she knew he was not being particularly pleasant about himself. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth shoved at his shoulders, reversing their positions. She swung a leg over him, setting herself over his hips. Claude stared up at her with awe in his eyes, that hunger tinging his expression as Byleth rocked back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop me if you feel any pain,” Byleth insisted. Claude nodded, distracted until Byleth gripped his chin and forced him to look at her. “I’m serious, Khalid. Or else we won’t be doing this again until Mercedes says your knees are fully healed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude nodded again, this time his eyes locked on hers. Assured he would not disobey her, Byleth released him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She straightened, rocking back once more, biting back a moan at the feel of his cock, hard and hot, against her ass. Byleth raised herself up, wrapping a hand around Claude’s cock as she positioned herself over him. Claude moaned, hands fisting into the sheets beneath him. “Byleth,” he whispered, gritting his teeth as she sank down onto him, slowly taking him into her bit by bit. “I’ve wanted you for too long, and too much. I’m not going to last long.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth leaned forward, bottoming out and rocking against his hips, placing a kiss against his nose. The feel of him, large and hot within her, was welcome after so long. “I don’t think I’ll last long either.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Claude’s expression of embarrassment turned to a grin. “I like it when you go wild.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth blushed, Claude’s hands gripping her hips as he grinned up at her. He knew she became self conscious when handed the reins. But Claude rolled his hips against her, his hands sliding higher, his silent </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’m with you.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth paused only long enough to take a deep breath, but the feel of him was more than enough to take a deep breath, but the feel of him was more than enough to drive her on, her need for him stronger than her self doubt. Claude’s fingers worked under his shirt, the pads of his calloused thumbs brushed against the underside of her breasts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She took a breath, and together they moved. It was as if he had never left. They took their cues from one another, Claude’s hands exploring her breasts, the reverence with which he handled her juxtaposed against the rapid movements of their hips. Byleth attempted to pace herself, truly she did, but she was greedy. She wanted, and she could feel Claude, rising to meet her each time, just as ravenous as herself.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her hands planted on his chest, his heart beating rapidly beneath her palm. “Khalid?” she whispered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine, By,” he whispered back. He pinched one of her nipples, accompanied with a cocky grin, even if it was shaky. “Love you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth groaned, increasing her pace. She was absolutely reckless now, racing toward that cliff edge, eager to jump. “Don’t try to distract me right now,” she growled out.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude laughed, the noise shaking her. Byleth moaned, fingers curling into the soft hair on his chest. Seeing her close, one of Claude’s hands dropped to her clit, pinching both it and her nipple at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She threw her head back, crying her defiance even as the cliff ran out under her and she began to fall. She came down onto Claude once more, relief flooding through her at the sound of his own moan, the one that carried that extra note. Warmth flooded her, and with shaking limbs, she fell into her husband’s arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Stars,” Claude whispered into her hair. They trembled together as Claude’s cock slowly softened and slipped free from her body. “I’ve missed this.” He kissed her head, squeezing her gently. “This moment right here. I mean, the sex is fantastic, but I love this part too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When you get to bask in how much I love you?” Byleth asked. She enjoyed watching the blush spread across his face in the moonlight spilling through their windows. “I like this moment too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth moved to brush back that troublesome lock of hair that always fell in his face, but found herself hugged close, her arm squished against his side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to leave you again, Byleth,” Claude whispered, his warm breath puffing out against her ear. “Never again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Byleth answered, managing to place a peck on his nose. “I wasn’t planning on letting you go.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude let loose a weak laugh, seeking out Byleth’s lips once more before they fell asleep in one another’s arms.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Last chapter! Thank you guys for sticking with me through this one. I know there were some long breaks between updates, but I'm very happy to have finished this. I hope you enjoy it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Oh come on, surely you can give me a preview of your speech.” Claude pouted, a melodramatic look of horror crossing his face. “You are planning on giving a speech, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am,” Lysithea snapped, adjusting her veil for the twentieth time. “Claude von Riegan is a moron. There. You’ve heard it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How rude.” But Claude was grinning, pride etched in every line of his face. “How are you doing?” he asked, gentler without a tease.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Lysithea paused, her face falling as she gave the expected answer. Her hands wrung together, a completely foreign gesture for the young woman. “Nervous,” she admitted.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude nodded in understanding. “That’s usual.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Lysithea looked up, reaching for the thread of hope Claude had given her. “Everyone always says that, but is it really true?”</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep.” Claude seemed almost far away, lost in a memory as he spoke. “I love Byleth. I know how much she loves me too, but man, that moment of waiting before the ceremony, that was worse than when we were waiting to start the battle with Nemesis.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Lysithea echoed, her own words distant. “It does not seem reasonable, which I think is adding to why I’m so upset.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude snorted. “You’re handling it well. You were with Marianne before her wedding, so you didn’t see Hilda, but she was a mess. She had convinced herself that her dress wasn’t good enough to stand before Marianne in, and started trying to make a completely new one in an hour.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lysithea startled, staring at Claude in disbelief. “She did not!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She did,” Claude answered, grin growing. “Definitely preferred that to Lorenz’s poetry.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lysithea turned fully toward him, her hands having long since stopped their worrying. “He read you poetry before his wedding?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep,” Claude answered, popping the word. “He got so distracted he accidentally started reading poetry meant for Leonie and </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> Leonie.” Claude cupped his hands in front of his chest and bounced them, a rather unsubtle hint at exactly what he meant.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lysithea’s eyes went wide. “He did not!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently our friendly mercenary gets rather soft during a poetry reading.” Claude’s grin took on a wicked edge, leaning in as if he had shared a secret, but whispering too loudly to keep it under wraps. “Don’t let her know I told you though. I only just got back from the dead.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude straightened back up, glad to see Lysithea with less worry lines pulling at her expression. “Oh right, and then there was Nader. Everyone always thinks he’s such an easy going teddy bear, but he was a bumbling mess. I lost count of how many times he asked me if he looked cross eyed. No idea why that was his worry right then.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Judith did the same.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude stared at her in disbelief. How had he not heard anything about this? “Judith? She’s the one person I thought unflappable on this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Lysithea shook her head, posture fully at ease now. “She kept fretting over her shoes.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Her shoes?” Claude was absolutely giddy. This might very well be one of the best presents anyone had given him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He watched Lysithea’s smile fade, a joy lingering in her eyes. “Thank you, Claude. For this, and all of it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“All of it?” Claude repeated, brows furrowed in confusion.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“For…” Lysthiea trailed off, rolling her wrist to indicate everything around them. “For not giving up on me. For helping Cyril give me my life back. For allowing me to have a purpose here with him. I know he is grateful you listened to him, and that you are trying to change things. You...you have become family to me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She had dropped her gaze, once more fidgeting with fabric for a completely different reason. Of course, Claude would not be Claude if he did not cover his own sincerity with teasing. “Aw, Sithea. I’ve always wanted a little sister.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lysithea huffed, puffing up in a way that had Claude cackling. But apparently even Claude’s insincerity could not fully ruin the moment. Claude watched her deflate as he wiped a fake tear from his eye. “I’m saying I’m grateful to you, Claude.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What else is family for?” Claude opened his arms, bringing Lysithea in for a tight hug.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A grunt came from outside Lysithea’s window had them breaking apart, blinking at each other in confusion, as if they were not sure of what they had just heard. An arm popped over the lip, a familiar face appearing in its frame.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cyril!” Lysithea cried happily, running to the window to help her fiancee into the room. Cyril tumbled in, managing to land on his feet and wrapped his arms around Lysithea. “What are you doing here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Lady Byleth said His Majesty had a gift for us.” Together the couple turned to look at Claude, who was all grins. He stepped to the covered object he had brought in with him when he had first come to check on Lysithea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I was wondering what that was,” Lysithea murmured.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s something very special to me.” His smile turned a bit apologetic. “I think this is really more of a Cyril present, Lysithea, but…” He trailed off, deciding it best to simply yank the covering off, revealing the wyvern egg beneath.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cyril and Lysithea both froze. It was no small thing for an Almyran King to gift a wyvern. It was considered one of the highest ranks of fabor. Claude could see the protest building, but watched Cyril swallow it after a few moments of opening and closing his mouth with no sound emerging. “This is an egg from the last clutch Shamil sired.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Claude?” Cyril was so caught off guard he, for once, forgot Claude’s title.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude snapped his fingers and grinned at Cyril’s horrified expression. “Is this because of...of the mission I returned from at the end of last year?” Cyril asked, hesitating over each word.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Claude’s grin softened, hating that he had given the young man the impressions of a buy off. “No, not that at all. I could think of no one more deserving, that’s why.” Claude looked up from the egg to the couple, a finger tracing over the smooth surface of the shell, a heat emanating from within. “The two of you have done much to support myself and Byleth. I wanted to show how much I appreciate that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cyril and Lysithea softened, their shock wearing off. “Thank you, Claude.” Lysithea tangled her fingers together with Cyril’s, leaning against his shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Cyril followed, a bit of hesitation in his word before he decided to charge forward. “You aren’t all that bad. I think we’ll stick around a bit longer.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude laughed, his heart light. It still felt strange sometimes that someone besides Byleth could do that to him, that there were people he </span>
  <em>
    <span>could </span>
  </em>
  <span>trust. It was wonderful and overwhelming, something he thought he would never have. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How had he become so fortunate? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>/</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I would find you out here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude turned at the sound of her voice, face splitting into a wide smile. Byleth climbed onto the fence that marked off the pen, uncaring that she would dirty her fine clothes, watching as he attempted to bond with the moody teenage wyvern who was to become his mount. Said moody wyvern immediately used the distraction to bowl the king over, leaving him lying in the dust.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude propped himself up on his elbows, shaking his head to clear it. “You know, By, I might never ride again; despite what Mercedes says about my pace of recovery.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The wyvern hissed at him from where she had wandered off to the opposite side of the pen. She flexed her wings, revealing the black strike that stood out starkly against the white, the reason she had originally been rejected as a royal mount. But as she was the only white wyvern not yet bonded to a royal, Claude found himself with little choice. The Almyran King needed his mount. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She treaded toward Byleth, shifting back and forth on her front claws. “Oh no you don’t!” Claude shot up onto his feet. “Your bone to pick is with me! Astra!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Astra cawed loudly, bounding away from Byleth as Claude chased her. “Don’t overdo it,” Byleth called after them. Sure enough, Claude stopped a moment later, stretching out his legs. “You’re going to be missed at the reception,” she pointed out, watching Astra circle back around  out of her periphery. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Claude answered, world away. “I just needed to get some air for a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been looking for you all day,” Byleth said lightly. “Tiana said the new school is ahead of schedule. She’ll be ready to open it next month.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude nodded, his face grim as he watched Astra, the wyvern trying to seem busy grumbling to herself but the flick of her eyes toward Claude gave away the mischief she was planning. “That’s good. I’m surprised my mother of all people wanted to become a teacher, but I think she was ready to retire from politics after my whole scare.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth nodded, lightly kicking her feet against air. “I think she likes the idea of joining Almyra and Fódlan in more than marriage. Turning the Locket into a university was a good idea. I do have to wonder about the number of students admitted though.” She paused, watching carefully Claude’s reaction as he stiffened, but otherwise did nothing. His lack of a reaction spoke volumes. So she was correct after all. “Fifty-four is quite a lot for a new school to take on all at once. I can’t help thinking it a strange coincidence, given that was the number of souls lost when Makoa’s ship sank on his way home from your funeral.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it?” Claude asked, in a way that left no doubt he knew exactly that. “What a strange coincidence indeed.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth tilted her head, but otherwise allowed the matter to drop. Cyril’s mysterious absence at that time was perhaps not so mysterious after all. And thinking of the young man; “I take it you were able to give Cyril and Lysithea the egg?” she asked, picking at a spot on her skirt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I did.” Claude’s scowl slowly morphed into a smile, but he did not allow himself to take his eyes off of Astra again. He always was quick to learn his lessons. “The only egg left from Shamil’s clutch is the white one now.” The one Claude could not give to Cyril without the implication that Claude was declaring him favored for successor, something Cyril probably would have threatened him for; well, more likely he would flee Almyra and never look back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How long do you think it will be before it hatches?” Byleth asked. She fought the curl of her lips when she lowered her hand before the fence line, Astra sniffing at the air. The wyvern gave a happy cry, bouncing over to Byleth and taking the dried meat offering.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you get her to do that? I can bring her an entire roasted chicken and she turns her nose up at it.” Claude pouted, staring at the too pleased wyvern before moving onto Byleth’s previous question. “Anytime between now and a few months. Wyverns tend to hatch whenever they feel like it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I currently have an asset you do not,” Byleth explained, speaking in the same pattern of answer and question. Astra gently butted her head against Byleth’s stomach, purring softly. Byleth scratched under Astra’s chin, all the while holding Claude’s eye. There was a spark of interest there, knowing she had something truly important to tell him. “That’s good though. Since you’ll be training them at the same time, it means you’ll have something to bond over with our little one.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude’s eyes went wide, dropping down to her stomach. He strode toward her, drifting in a haze of surprise, only to break into a run as her words fully processed. Byleth so enjoyed watching those eyes of his, following along with his thought process. Claude reached out to her, Astra squawking as Byleth gently pushed her out of Claude’s way, moments before his arms wrapped around her. He kissed her deeply, Byleth able to feel the smile on his lips. She was laughing when he pulled back, only to press kisses all over her face and neck. Her hands rose, entangling her fingers with Claude’s where they rested on her cheeks. Claude settled, a nervous energy running through him, taking the cue to rest his forehead against hers. “You’re pregnant?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” She laughed, a hint of confusion at the tears building in her eyes. She would have to ask him about that later. Years later and she was still learning the intricacies of emotions. “Are you surprised? You’ve been enjoying me very well every night since you returned,” she teased.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claude laughed, kissing her again. “I’ve felt rather well used myself,” he countered.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm,” Byleth hummed, wrapping her arms around him. “You’re happy then?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I am!” Truth swam in his eyes, reminding Byleth of all they had gone through since he first stumbled across her and Jeralt, fleeing from those bandits.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad.” She kissed his nose, reveling in his joy. “I was worried our story wouldn’t have a happy ending.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, we’re certainly due </span>
  <em>
    <span>one!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Claude’s voice rose an octave, head snapping around to land on a laughing Astra, the noise coming out in a hoarse hissing sound. “That was low,” he growled, rubbing his backside. “We were having a moment.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Astra’s hissing laughter grew louder as Claude kissed Byleth, no more than a hurried peck. “Excuse me, my star. I must teach this upstart the price associated with attacking her king.” He turned, charging after Astra. “Come here, you overgrown lizard menace!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Byleth could not help thinking Claude was right. This happiness she felt, this fullness, felt earned. A happy ending truly suited them. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please let me know what you guys think, and if you would like to see more.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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